The Mists of Ivalice
by The Sky Pirate Girl
Summary: Their names disappeared from history on that fateful day when Landis fell. History did not know that they were given other names and that when two kings decided to separate them because of a treaty, unknowingly, they destined Ivalice to its fall. Basch/Ashe.
1. The Marquis

**Prologue**

Golden dust is beginning to cover the ruins of the old palace. Though the rain period has come, the forsaken swords still lay scarlet, half-buried in the sand (a story of a raid still haunting the free kingdoms of Ivallice, reminding them the hunters are bound to seize them, when nothing else is left to conquer).

An old woman, wearing a black robe and a black cloth hiding her white hairs, comes to the ruins of a city that not a month ago was one of the most beautiful places on earth. The falling gardens of Princess Navairre waste away with no one left to watch after them, and the old mother lets a scream of unmeasured grief and rage for all those who waste away like the flowers, unrevanged.

Her two grandsons were the only dear to her creatures who presumably live. A young knight by the name Ondore, though only fourty he was, was the only one that the old woman could entrust them to, knowing she would never see them again.

Who would take care of the children, in this cruel, lonely world, savaged by the war and the plague, bitter and aggressive because of the panic and fear? Would they get separated? Heaven knows they love each other like no two other brothers had before them.

The old woman holds no utopian hope that her home would one day become yet again a flourishing kingdom. Her two grandsons, though daring little darlings they were now, would grow hiding their true identities in fear of their lives. Should they grow up wise, they would never return to this god-forsaken place again.

The face of this woman is marred with wrinkles, and desperation, her eyes half-mad from suffering and she wonders yet again why did the fate spare her.

_"Let the old hag live.__"_ a soldier had told his comrades. _"Let her watch this palace sink in the sand, and this country become a province of the Empire, a place where the Pug face would come on a whim, in the cold winters of our country." _The Pug face is the nation's pet name of Gramis' wife (though now that the Empire is getting more and more powerful, it is rumored that he would divorce her for a more pretty thing and simply conquer her home land, so as to not lose any of the beneficiations from the marriage).

"_God!_" the woman shouts to the sky, "Have mercy on my grandsons! Let them live peaceful lives and find happiness! I habour no faith to see them again, but perhaps it is better this way. I will live to remember, as they will live to forget. Such is the exchange of things, the dark humour of destiny. But I pray, I pray - do not separate them, for they've got no one else but each other!"

Nobody answers.

**Chapter ****1****: The Marquis**

"Why would you want to speak with me privately in the _kitchens_, in the _middle of the night_, my lord?" the lean figure of a man asked irritably.

"Because this is one of the few places where no one would suspect a conversation of importance this great to be held."

"Then speak, I beg you! What is so important that I have to leave my pregnant wife, your poor sister, in the middle of the night?" the second man sighed and looked through the window, gathering his wit - the rainy season had yet to come and the night sky still was clear with stars.

"My king, I am afraid I do not support your decision to participate in a war that is not ours to lead!"

Raminas Dalmasca's face reddened from all he had to say and feel.

"Do you think that I would want to become part of this war if it was not for the good of the country, Ondore? The Archadian Empire is like a giant beast, only irritated by the little kingdoms buzzing in its borders. If we aid them in the war, out country will make a treaty with the Empire and we shall all be spared. Cry your mercy, brother! Do you not suppose that I will not sleep at all from guilt?"

"How can I cry my mercy when there will be none for the poor people from Landis? If you aid The Archadian Empire, they will only get bigger and more dangerous - and no piece of document will stop them from having Dalmasca next. For God's sake, Raminas, the ancestors of your mother are from there! The children of Navairre and Bertrand are barely ten years old! By aiding the Empire you sentence them - and thousands of other innocent people to death! They stand no chance -"

"And yet it is them or us. I have to think of my own people, Ondore. Cease with your stubbornness now."

The marquis knew when to tell an order apart from a wish.

"As you wish," he sighed.

"I know I am a coward. I've done nothing but cowardly things in my life. But perhaps this is what has preserved me. I dare imagine you would have done the same thing in my shoes."

"Perhaps," Ondore sighed. After a few moments of silence, he said. "I shall lead your army." The king smiled a little.

"I would have no other man by my right side, my friend."

* * *

The Dalmascan armies departed from their homeland in three days. In two weeks Landis, the beautiful and ancient kingdom had fallen, along with the old king, the prince and his wife. The queen had disappeared, along with her grandchildren. The search for them had not been long, seeing as an old lady or two children could not threaten the new regime in any way (and even if they ever did, The Archadian Empire simply would wipe away all resistance). It was simply impossible for a country so small to stand a chance.

Those were dark days for both the people from Landis, what with the bloody occupation, but for the Dalmascans also.

The guilt of battling a country they felt so dear to the heart had scarred the hearts of almost every warrior of Dalmasca_. It's them or us._ The thoughts that slowly lulled to sleep the king's consciousness did little to ease his people. Instead they thought: _It could have__** been**__ us. Our children. Our sons and fathers and brothers. Our wives and sisters could have fallen to the dirty The Archadian Empiren hands._

The marquis and many others had rarely gone to bed without a bottle of alcohol and without a prayer for a dreamless sleep.

This nightmare finally came to an end, in the middle of the second month of Landis' occupation. The Dalmascans were to return home.

"An' everyone'd goh on their merry ways!" Ondore slurred on the final night. He was taking a walk near the palace - a dangerous and thoughtless thing to do, but he was drunk and cared little of danger. "How I hate yah, The Archadian Empire! How I hate yah, ma brothe'! Yah nuthin' but an idiot!"

The marquis did not see the hanging sign of an abandoned pub but he did feel it hit him in the head. He groaned and felt himself fall and knew no more.

To wake up the next morning, to say the least, wasn't a very pleasant business for the king's right hand and the misfortunes that befell him better stay unsaid.

Around the second hour of wandering, he finally admitted to himself that he was lost.

"Excuse me, Madame, do you happen to know the way to the main street?" he asked an old woman who was standing close to a wall like a rat trying to stay unnoticed by a viscous cat.

It was the eyes of the woman that captivated him - they were so familiar but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. Not that he felt his life was a great matter, these days.

The woman did not speak. Ondore decided not to bother this miserable soul again and would have simply left her be to look for someone else to ask (and the chance to see someone else who was really from Landis was scarce, since its people were either dead or in hiding), but something stopped him.

A child's crying.

"Do not cry, brother. We have to be strong. We have to endure. Mamma and papa would want that."

"You don't know what would they want! They're dead!"

Curiosity took the better of him, and the marquis took a look inside the poor house which the woman had guarded.

Two children, both blond, both pale, both with identical sea foam blue eyes. Twins.

"Antoine, stop crying," the old woman ordered and there was something regal about the way she said it.

Ondore was startled to realize who the people before him were.

"Your Majesties!" The queen took three quick, aggressive steps towards him.

"Alright. You have found us. We have been abandoned. Now what would you do with us? Kill us? Oh, Dalmasca has become but a faithful dog - fearing its master and bidding to his every wish!"

Ondore stood dumbfounded for a few seconds,until he realized he could do them no harm.

"I shan't tell anyone I have seen you, your Majesty. I only want to help you, now that I've found you."

The woman gave a mirthless, cold laugh that sounded raw from disuse.

"Help us, you say? How can I trust you? You've murdered and pillaged my people and my kingdom. The word of a brother-traitor hardly matters to me _or_ those orphans."

"I've done nothing to deserve your trust of my word. And yet I give it to you. Words cannot describe how guilty I feel, how much I hate myself. Please, cry your mercy - I want an atonement!"

The queen gazed at him for a long while and he saw that she still held the same imperial air that made even Gramis lower his gaze.

"I am left with no other choice then. Help me save these children. Take them away with you. Promise me that you shall keep them safe."

"And you?"

"It will be easier with just the children. Think nothing of me. I don't matter now, when I've lost my husband and son." Ondore understood and said nothing.

"I hear that today your people will return to the homes they've left." _Now leaving behind the homes and families they have destroyed._ "Tell your king that you are delayed. Tell him that you will return later. In three days time, come here again, late in the night, so that the The Archadian Empiren swine would not see you and the children." Ondore nodded, a soldier taking orders.

The queen gave him directions to the central street and turned to leave without goodbye.

* * *

"One day I will return here and take back what is rightfully mine!" Antoine said, head held up high. His was a posture perfect for the chocobo he was riding.

"The Archadian Empire is too powerful, brother. You can't change the world. Grandmother told us to live quietly and to tell no one of who are parents were. We should instead try to change small things. I want to live a peaceful life. Nothing too big."

"But small things lead to big ones," Ondore told the boys.

"Like the butterfly and the hurricane, right?" Fernan asked. Antoine smiled haughtily.

"I'm no butterfly - I'm a hurricane."

Ondore smiled. He was quickly becoming attached to these children.

Antoine was the more confident one, while Fernan was more introverted and liked to keep to himself better. Both were equally charismatic.

"Monsieur Ondore, where are we going?" Fernan asked.

"To Nabradia - I have a friend who would take you."

"And they will not separate us?" Antoine asked.

"No."

"Good," the twins said in unison.

* * *

A few days later, on the day princess Ashelia became two months old, they arrived in the old fortress nearby Nabudis. The building represented the Academy for knights and knights-in-training.

"Who are they?" Kesslar, an old female friend of the Marquis and one of the instructors there, asked as she saw the children. Their faces, which had tanned by the journey through the desert, were half hidden from the cloaks they were wearing. Their eyes were startling in their contrast to the skin.

"It would be better if you do not know," Ondore replied.

"It is hardly a mystery, given the circumstances," Kesslar said critically. "If they're going to enter the royal army, at least change their names."

The Marquis looked thoughtfully at the children. "Noah," he said while looking at Fernan, "and Basch," -while looking at Antoine. "Noah and Basch von Ronsenburg."

* * *

The twins were very skittish in their first months in the fortress. The marquis had to leave at the very same hour of his arrival in Nabudis, so he simply dropped them off to Kesslar's cares and hurried his chocobo to Dalmasca.

It was hard for the two former princes to get used to such severe change in the atmosphere - from riches and smiles and respect, to hard training and menacing eyes from the older students there. Yet they knew not to tell anyone that they deserved to be treated better (and also tried not to show it through their actions) for this was their grandmother's last bidding to them.

It was bizarre how slowly the hours passed, and the years - so quickly. Before they knew it, the memory of their old world had receded into the shadow of their new one.

* * *

In the middle of the night Noah was awoken by someone's snivels. He would have gone back to sleep - in the boys' rooms there always was a knight in training who was crying - either because their wounds hurt, or because they missed their family, or because of the older boys who had the habit to bully the younger ones.

But the snivels were too familiar.

"Basch?" He stood up from his bed and sat at the corner of his brother's. "Don't cry, please. You have to endure." _Out of respect for life. We're the only ones blessed and cursed to live._

"I know. I simply... Fernan, d'you remember -?"

"Yes, I do. I remember."

"Do... do they fade away for you too?" His voice hitched.

"Yes."

"Are you not afraid?"

"No - I am simply relieved. I do not wish to carry the burden of impossible dreams and memories. It is easier to live with what I have when I do not think of what I've lost." After a moment, Basch slowly nodded.

"You're right. Perhaps some things are better left forgotten. But -"

The clock struck twelve. It was officially the seventh day of February.

"Happy twelfth birthday, brother," Noah whispered. His twin smiled.

"To you too."

"What is your birthday wish?"

"To one day be able to beat those bastards who terrorize us." Basch's nose wrinkled in disgust.

In the two years they had spent in the Academy for knights, Basch had been terrorized by two older boys who had destroyed his cocky attitude. Noah however took upon the role to be the stronger brother, the one who protected.

"Raine and Nabrath. I hate them!"

"You have to show more confidence and strength, Basch. Remember what the Instructor said once."

Now his brother did not speak of their instructor from the Academy.

"Tumus! I remember him! Wasn't he the same Instructor who was always irritated when our stiff little friend came to our country only to play with us and beat him at chess?"

"He was my favorite friend - the funniest of the lot. Though I still cannot imagine how it would have felt to be beaten at chess by a child of four."

"Our SLF... smart little thing he was. I wonder what happened to him?" Basch frowned and then answered his own question."He is an The Archadian Empiren noble. Nothing good could have come out of him."

Noah cleared his throat. "Let's go to sleep now."

Basch looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Basch, I know what you want, but don't you think we're too grown up for this? No, don't look at me with those doe eyes. I will not cave in." Basch simply stared. "I cannot believe that I was persuaded by the _identical_ doe eyes that _I_ use on people. Guess I'm simply _that_ good. Move over." Noah went under the covers and Basch immediately attached himself to his brother like a vine. "Ew, Basch, we're not six anymore!"

Basch held on. "Oh, dear brother of mine, you know you love me."

Noah sighed, irritated.

Just before he drifted off to sleep once more, Basch asked him what _his _birthday wish was.

"Seriously, Basch, do shut it now, or I'll go sleep in the stables."

"Noah!"

"Goodnight, dear brother of mine." Noah said and pretended to fall quickly asleep, leaving no room for protest.

They had dwelled on the past too long tonight. No use to bring it up again.

_I only wish not to dream._

On the next morning Noah awoke early and moved to his own bed, so that no one would laugh at them for being so childish (and the word wouldn't slip to Raine and Nabrath).

* * *

Many things changed over the next years, with the twins getting bolder and stronger with every day they trained. They quickly became infamous for their characters and quite popular for their promising careers as knights of Nabradia (though they still hadn't graduated). The one more promising military man in their sphere was Lord Rasler, but the boy was a prince and he was privately tutored in the palace.

The Marquis came to visit them as often as he could, all the while balancing his visits to Dalmasca and his tasks as a ruler of the free island Bhujerba.

"The Dalmascan Royalties, their Majesties and Princess Ashelia and the Nabradian prince Rasler!" a man shouted.

Basch and Noah, already seventeen, looked up with interest and mixed feelings. They were running on errands for Instructor Kesslar – she had sent them to the open market to buy apples for her. In all seriousness, how could they let a pregnant woman still be in charge?

The carriage was passing on the main street and they saw the king – had he become uglier since the last time they saw him, one year ago? The queen was ever so beautiful, though she looked slightly pale and sad. But who was to blame her? She had just lost her second son to the plague that, though now almost rarity, still was not completely gone.

The princess, only seven, looked like a sweet little darling and she was chatting merrily with the prince.

"Those two would be an ideal match!" the women from the market predicted.

The royal carriage was followed by many horsemen but only a single face caught the brothers' attention.

"Marquis Ondore!" Noah yelled, dropping the basket with apples and running towards the marquis.

"Noah! There you go again!" Basch feigned irritation but he followed his brother, laughing.

The marquis saw them and smiled. The procession halted.

"What in the name of –"

"Are not those knights of the Academy?"

"Yes, they are!"

"Of course they are, foolish woman, those are Basch and Noah von Ronsenburg!"

"_The_ Basch and Noah?"

"Have you heard of any other? Those are Nabradia's best knights-in-training!"

"And Nabradia's handsomest!"

"They know the marquis…"

"Have they no shame, to stop a royal procession like that?"

Just then the king whispered something to his brother-in-law and said man smiled.

"The procession continues!" Raminas called out authoritatively and the carriage along with all the horsemen save one continued.

The marquis dismounted his horse and headed towards the two lean boys.

"Basch! Noah! How are you? It's been months!"

"You haven't written in so long! What kind of godfather are you?" Noah asked, half-joking, half-serious.

"A very busy one," Ondore retorted and looked around. "Let us go somewhere more private. The whole central street is watching us in interest."

The brothers looked at each other and smiled at their godfather.

"Well, we know of one very good pub."

"Boys, I do not at all like those identical wicked grins on your faces."

* * *

The place they went to was not the cleanest but it was cozy and warm and full of merry people. The twins shared a devious look and turned to the Marquis, when he refused to order anything but water.

"Why, Godfather?"

"Only a pint of cider?"

"You know I don't like to drink."

"Not even a glass of wine?"

"Not even a glass of slightly fermented grape juice." He smiled. "Well, tell me now, how are you doing? Are Nabrath and Raine giving you problems again?"

"They haven't since ages. Got lost in the long shadows of our fame, I suppose," Basch said. Noah smirked.

"And I see that you've fully gotten back your old attitude." _The attitude of inexperienced prince__s__._

"Of course."

"We're fine by the way," Noah chirped, in a smile so big and wolfish that Ondore understood immediately that there were girls involved.

"Of course you are."

"And you? What brings you and… their Royal Majesties to Nabradia?"

"I am accompanying them in this visit, as a witness to the engagement of our princess and your… Nabradia's prince." The marquis almost bit his lip. "You know," he added "as a present for the in-laws, among with many other mutual beneficiations, Nabradia is giving to Dalmasca twenty percent of its knights. In Dalmasca there is a bigger chance for you to find fame." Basch and Noah wrinkled their noses – yes, they would see their godfather more frequently and would become more famous, but they would serve under the very king who had helped with the destruction of their kingdom. It was hardly worth it.

"You do not wish to come?"

"No," they declared in unison.

"Alright. It is not as if it is by choice though – the majesties would decide who is to go under Dalmascan service and who - to stay under Nabradia's. But I could have said a word to Raminas."

* * *

Early in one of the mornings that followed, Instructor Basra appeared in the chambers told them that all knights and knights-in-training were to go to the capital by afternoon and report to the royal palace at eight. The kings of both countries and the marquis would await them in the grand hall.

"My knights," the Nabradian king began when the time finally came, "I am here to tell you of a grand decision that involves you. As you've heard in the morning, my son is now engaged to princess Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca. I have to ask some of you to go to her homeland and protect your future princess, since we all know that you are one of the best warriors in all of Ivallice." Dead silence. "I shall now proceed to tell the names of those who the king of Dalmasca and I think are the best suited for this." Ten of the fifty knights were sentenced to become honorable citizens of Rabanastre and knights of the Dalmascan Order.

"...And lastly, Basch von Ronsenburg."

"What?" the faint voice of said knight whispered.

"_NO!_" Noah roared.

Basch looked at his godfather with begging eyes. "Marquis, please, you promised! You promised that no one would separate us!"

"I'm sorry, my boys," the marquis said gravely, "But Nabradia cannot afford to lose the both of you, and yet it would be shame if she does not share one of its two most promising."

The twins looked at him with identical eyes - in those seafoam blue depths he saw emotions he had not seen since the war. Or per chance he was seeing his own reflection in their eyes, his own emotions? He saw how betrayed they felt and his heart broke.

Long after all was over, Ondore would not forget Noah's words after everyone else had left, for they haunted him till his very end.

"_You promised__,__"_ the prince said in a broken, soulless whisper and his body swayed from pain and rage. His back hit a marble white column that stood nearby. _"You promised...You promised… You promised…"_

Marquis Ondore would blame himself till the rest of his life, for not doing anything then – by separating the princes of Landis, both kingdoms, unknowingly, became destined to fall.

_"You promised..."_


	2. House of B'nargin

**Chapter 2: House of B'nargin**

_Part One_

In the Dalmascan Order, one of the older knights once told Basch that he was not fit to be a warrior.

_"You're a prince - in heart. You __cannot__ become one of us, no matter how good you__ a__re wielding the sword__ and the shield__. If you want to be a real __soldier__ you have to control your temper, your cheekiness. You are arrogant. Rebellious. Those are traits that have sentenced many kiddos who think they can fight to death. Can you not see the beauty in humbleness? You have to learn to be silent, only watching and studying your surroundings, if you really want to protect the princess one day._"

Basch decided to listen to this advice (which had not at all been an easy thing to do), and when he turned eighteen, he was called by the king officially and asked to begin his duties as a royal bodyguard.

The young knight did not expect to get lost in the palace, though. While he wandered around the long halls, searching for someone to ask for directions, he stumbled upon the library.

Basch couldn't resist looking further inside it, entranced by the smell of books and leather. In the old palace, the first one in which he ever was, the library had been his and Noah's favourite place.

And there, in the center of _this_ one, on a tiny armchair sat the jewel of Dalmasca, hiding behind the covers of a thick book.

She was precious, because in two years she had lost all her remaining brothers because of war and illness, and her mother because of a grief that only a mother who had lost so many children could know. The people said that it was the curse of the queen of Landis to the king – to lose everything he held dear. No one knew why the Gods spared his only daughter, Ashelia.

She was an innocent child who knew nothing of war and politics yet (at least in practice) and the former Antoine of Landis felt no ill feelings towards her.

"My lady," he said in a deep, thick from emotion voice and bowled. She jumped.

"You're new here," were her first words to him. The princess took a deep breath. "Either you're here to take me to my rooms, which I _refuse_, or you've gotten lost and are looking for the court room. If it is the latter, simply go through the left corridor from here, and then only straight. You're bound to find it."

"I see. Thank you, your Majesty," Basch said and quietly turned to exit, not sure if he had to tell someone about where the princess was. Remembering how bound to his duties he had felt as a child-prince, he decided to leave her be.

"What is your name, knight?"

"Basch." She nodded and returned to her book. He turned yet again and did not notice how the young girl watched him go from behind the covers.

* * *

Basch grew to be so well liked by the people from the palace, that - as his reputation boosted - he was finally called by the king once more and given a task of utmost importance.

"You are to be the princess' bodyguard. Please do a good work in protecting her, for she is the only one I have left. It is a heavy duty, the one I give you because she is a feisty, freedom loving little thing that drives the maids insane."

_She is just like me and Noah when we were __young,_ Basch thought with a smile.

"Protecting her highness would be my great honor."

The princess and the former prince were formally introduced in the very same morning. They instantly liked one another and in only a matter of months they became friends.

* * *

"Basch!" Ashelia screamed one sunny afternoon, as she shot up from the armchair she had been sleeping in. The knight hurried to her side.

"Princess?" he asked and was surprised to see her cry. "A nightmare?" She nodded. "Why did you scream my name?" he asked after she calmed down.

"Because you weren't there to protect me." There was something in her words that made him feel unsettled. What would happen if someday, by some cruel turn of events, he couldn't be there to protect her when she needed him?

"Perhaps I ought to teach you to protect yourself," the words slipped from his mouth before he realized.

"Oh, please, can you?"

"You'll have to ask your father first." Ashelia pouted.

She was twelve and already the people called her the Desert Flower of Dalmasca.

When she managed to kick him in the shins on their second time training and then went to her lesson on knitting, he realized he should never underestimate her.

The knight's heart swelled with pride and a feeling he could not quite name, when he realized that after a while the princess would be perfectly capable of saving herself.

* * *

One day, a few more months later, the king called him to his private chambers.

"You are sending me to war?" Basch asked with surprise. The tensions between Dalmasca and Carista, one of the smallest nations in these territories had tightened palpably, yet a war... it had not even been announced publically yet. "What of the princess?"

"You shall protect her from the battlefield. I will appoint another knight for her. You are to be under the Marquis' orders."

The knight cleared his throught. "When am I to leave?"

"Next week."

"_NO!_" someone behind him screamed and Basch turned around, startled, feeling a sudden sense of déjà vu. "You will not send him away from me!"

"And why exactly, princess Ashelia?" her father asked. The thirteen years old girl was red in the face.

"Because – because he is my most esteemed knight… and… and my best friend." she finally admitted and Basch's heart melted with affection for the child. He had never imagined that he could come to befriend and care so much for the daughter of the murderer of his family. It was her innocence and rebellion that made him a done deal. He saw so much of his old self in her. It was easier to be a knight, when in the presence of someone as lively as her highness.

He thought for a second and decided that she was his best friend too.

"This is not enough – he is a very good warrior, but he would not have a chance to advance in ranks if he stays here and simply babysit you."

"I need him by my side!" she said with a tone so imperious that no one who heard it would doubt that this was the future queen of both Dalmasca and Nabradia.

"Very well, then. He shall stay with you." Basch did not exactly like how he was treated like a pet or even worse - an object, but said nothing of it and his face betrayed no emotion.

Princess Ashelia seemed as though she wanted to hug her father but settled for a smile and a simple 'thank you'.

When she was gone, the king told him that he was to join Ondore's army after a month, instead.

"She has to learn to stand her ground, that she _can _stand it. But that does not mean that I will lose one of my best lieutenants."

* * *

Over the years, Basch had learned to accept his fate.

He had come to respect the king, for Raminas was an exceptional man. His only fault –or perhaps simply another quality – was that he wanted his country to be as peaceful as it could be and would stop at nothing to keep this peace.

The Princess, on the other hand, held Basch's full loyalty and affection – since no one else was there to claim it.

When he escaladed ranks in the war and became Captain, the knight had to admit he did not do it for the king or for fame. He did it because he had found something to protect and even if she was not really in danger, he knew that he had to do absolutely anything within his power for this one most precious thing to be ever safe, even if all else should parish.

His godfather - her uncle - told him that she had always asked for him in her letters. Though why did she not write directly to Basch, he had no idea.

In the war, the Captain warmed up to his godfather a little. He had to. Ondore knew not to show he was relieved, for behind Basch's emotionless mask still slept the stubborn Antoine and to act as if the boy had forgiven him fully already would only irritate him more.

* * *

_Part Two_

From the first time Ashelia saw the knight that would later become her companion, she was captivated.

She had felt only a childish curiosity at first but as the years went by, she came to love him as a friend, a guide, a brother, a father and everything a man could be to a girl.

He had bid to her every whim but he taught her the meaning of humbleness too.

She had been too young when she lost her whole family but her father to really grieve about them. Growing up, she had held on to her knight like a drowning girl to a stick. He was her only ground, her constant, and she felt it in her heart that she would spend the rest of her life with him by her side. She was certain of it, by the time she reached twelve.

* * *

"Tell me a story, Basch. Or I will not fall asleep," she told him one night when he tucked her to bed. She was eleven, but still she loved hearing his stories – they were unlike any she had ever heard before. Like from a culture long dead and forgotten.

"Very well," her knight said and sat on the chair next to her bed. "There were once two brothers, two princes who were very spoiled. They loved irritating the councils, the maids... as a matter of fact, everyone on their way. Their mother would frown, while their father would secretly smile.

"They had a best friend who was half their age, but he was the smartest and cheekiest boy they had ever known – only bested by themselves in the latter – always rambling about science, aerodynamics and other boring stuff. He had actually beaten their best strategist two times in a roll at chess.

"The only problem in their friendship was that the boy was from a different country. So once when they were visiting him, they had decided to hide him in the airship when they were to go home. Their plan had succeeded and..." He saw that she drifted off and carefully stood up.

"I am not asleep. I am simply closing my eyes. I wish to hear the end of the story. Those three friends sound like very interesting characters to me."

"Oh, just wait till you hear about their adventures, princess. Just don't get many ideas."

"I won't. Promise. I won't promise." When she opened her eyes to see his reaction to her daring answer she saw that Basch was looking at her with an odd half-smile and his eyes seemed very far away for a moment.

* * *

"Basch, why won't you ever say my name? You only ever say 'your highness' and 'princess'."

"I am sorry. I did not know I offended you when I called you like this. But for the sake of propriety I cannot allow myself to call you else… in public." And he smiled the kind of a smile her uncle would give her when he promised her toys and sweets in a veiled manner, so as to tease her.

"There is no one here now." Basch sighed. She waited. "Well?"

"You simply wish to hear me say your name for the sake of it?"

"Yes."

"Ashelia," he said after a second. The princess smiled, but after a while she frowned.

"Ashelia is too long. I do not understand what is it with the royalties and their long names? Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca? I wish it had shorter version."

"Ashe," he said quietly, remembering the ashtrees that grew in his mother's gardens.

"What?" Ashelia asked, bewildered.

"Ashe." Hearing him give her a nickname, when only half a minute ago he called her 'your highness', made her feel extremely giddy.

"Say it again!" Basch looked up to the sky as if to ask 'why me?' but laughed.

The sound of his laughter, however rare it was, always filled up spaces in her she did not know existed.

"Ashe," he said and she could hear the smile in his voice.

* * *

On the anniversary of her mother's death, she quietly asked him if he had ever lost someone.

"Yes," he replied. Of course he had – he was from Landis, after all. So much she had learned.

"Who?"

"…Everyone."

"I am sorry," Ashe said. And she was sorry, really, for ever bringing it up. Sadness had marred his face and, in turn, her heart too. She could not bear to see her knight suffer.

"Do not be. As long as her highness is safe," Basch said as he looked at the other people in the graveyard "I can find the strength and and gladness to continue to exist." Somehow his words made it all better.

* * *

When she became thirteen he went off to war. Her heart broke when one morning she awoke and Vossler was by her side, and not Basch.

She knew she was selfish because she sometimes caught herself wondering why Vossler could not have gone to the battlefield in the stead of her most esteemed knight. She hated herself for this when her present guardian came to her every morning, always trying to be friendly and cheerful. He was not Basch.

He was not the stoic man whose mask she loved to crumble.

Ashelia knew that Basch had a side that was left buried behind the mask of a knight. In their four years of companionship, a few precious times she had seen the more relaxed, more civil him and he had become even more precious to her.

She had written to her uncle every week, asking about her friend, for she could not bring herself to write him (her hands shook every time she grabbed the pen and wrote his name on a paper).

_Why did it have to be __**him**__? Why did they have to take him away from me?_

* * *

When she turned fourteen he was not there (though seemingly the rest of the world was). She felt lonely and missed him like mad for the whole day and realized that she could not be truthfully happy with anybody else but him by her side.

No other man held a higher place in her heart and mind, no one could compare to him.

Finally the war ended – Dalmasca won – and Basch returned as a Captain.

The night after she saw him she cried herself to sleep. Both from happiness and confusion. Yes, she saw him again but her heart had fluttered so much that night that she wondered if she was ill.

* * *

When he returned to Dalmasca, Basch had been wounded. He said that his wound was not serious, that he would be perfectly fit to return to his duties to her highness next week. Ashe still worried.

On the morning he knocked on her door, and she saw he looked a bit pale.

"What are your plans for the day, your highness?" _Your highness again?_

"I do not have any. Perhaps the library?"

The corners of his mouth lifted.

Ashe's favorite place in the world was the library, in her now adult-big armchair, where she would surely read a book about adventures, pirates and thieves.

Basch sat on the chair near the big Landisian window (even if his country was gone, nothing could really erase the fact that it had existed, history, nation and cultury wise). He looked at Rabanastre. The knight leaned on his hand and closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of leather and books.

"I ache to go outside, Basch," the princess told him.

"Then I will tell the king and arrange for a carriage."

"But I would still be inside something, protected. All my life I have been watching the real things pass me by through the windows. I feel, sometimes, that the life I lead is not fit for me." Basch sighed. Since he came back, he was startled by how changed his princess was. She was half a woman now, and he did not know how to treat her. "Basch, speak to me of your home." He was startled by her sudden question.

"... my home, your highness?"

Ashe nodded. "I want to know of Landis. More than just what my history teachers tell me." Ashe's knight looked through the window again, watching the people in the market.

"Landis..." The named rolled off his mouth, leaving a bittersweet taste. "Was a very beautiful kingdom."

Ashe frowned. "I was told it was a republic, when it fell."

"It became a republic in its last months. Some of the people thought that it was the royals who were leading them to war, that if the monarchy fell, they would be spared. It was just the opposite - it was the king who united them. The parliament was corrupted by the Empire and lead the people straight to the lion's den. The royalties were imprisoned in their own palace. They became easy victims and the first who died in the war."

"How old were you when your country fell under the occupation?"

"Ten, your highness," Basch answereed, turning to look at her. "It was marquis Ondore who saved me and my brother. I still remember that very day." His grandmother had hugged them and had not let go for an hour, as if trying to memorize their scent, their faces (so much like the face of their mother).

"What happened to your brother?" Ashe remembered that two years ago he had told her he had nobody left.

"The marquis gave us to the Royal Academy of Nabradia's knights, and I and my brother lived in the Fortress for seven years. Then I came to Dalmasca and he stayed in Nabradia. He went missing during the Rozzarian Conflict, an year after my coming to Rabanaistre." The princess' heart swelled in sympathy.

"Why did not uncle Ondore take you with him to Bhujerba?" Ashe asked, disappointed in her relative. Why did he not help her knight and his brother more than just dropping them at some fortress?

Here Basch frowned.

How could he tell her that it would be very suspicious to come home with two ten years old twins from Landis, who looked so much like its former princes? No one would bother with two children training to become knights, but to be openly under the marquis' protection would have drawn too much attention.

"I think he did very well in his choice," he defended. The princess nodded, accepting his words - she did not like feeling disappointed in her uncle. Before Basch had come to view, marquis Ondore had been her favorite person in the world.

The two of them settled into silence.

* * *

Ashelia looked at Basch who had fallen asleep in his chair and sighed. Her ill heart was once again making flutterings, but she had not yet consulted the royal physician from fear that he would say she was dying.

Suddenly her knight opened his eyes and the princess was distressed to see tears in them.

"Basch?" she asked and rushed to him. In his half-awake state he drew her to his arms, burrying his face in her shoulder and effectively shocking her stand-still.

"I'm so sorry, Fernan... it wasn't I who abandoned you. " Ashe herself teared up, as she put an arm on his blond head. She had never seen him so vulnerable.

"Basch," she whispered and he looked up at her, blinking.

"Ashe?" He was still the first and only person who called her like that. She was either 'your highness', 'princess' or 'daughter'.

He stood up so fast, she had to step away from him.

"Forgive me for being so inappropriate. It shall not happen again. I am more tired from my wounds than I had originally thought." He was deeply ashamed that she had seen him so weak.


	3. The Prince

**Chapter ****3****: The ****P****rince**

It was as if the world had somehow shifted and the small piece of land Noah had been standing on disappeared. His trust was betrayed and he was suddenly utterly alone.

Away from his brother, his fears and his weaknesses had immerged as if from the dark depths of his very soul. At the beginning he was less than a shadow of his former self; less than a man.

On top of it Raine and Nabrath had started acting as if they owned the world again, now that only half Nabradia's two greatest were left to defend the others.

He did not find the energy to defy them.

Was it as hard for Basch?

_I have to endure. Out of respect for life, I have to endure._

So Noah turned his desperation into rage and ambition and paid no attention to the growing darkness within that was created by his own disillusionment and disappointment.

He killed his weaknesses, and built himself again from all that damaged him.

He became Nabradia's finest, youngest knight.

Basch wrote him letters and they gave him strength at first but then Noah noticed how slowly his brother was becoming loyal to his surrogate home country, to the princess and to the king.

It made him even more bitter.

When the conflict with Rozarria started, Noah was the first to enlist for the reinforcement, hoping to at least escalade the ranks. Though there were no real battles, for his bravery (for saving eleven children from the 'accidentally' ignited orphanage in a little village on the Rozzarian borders), he became a General. When the conflict was solved by a treaty, he and the other knights headed back to the Fortress.

* * *

"Are you not thinking of getting married, Noah? You're what? Twenty two?" Laret, his fellow knight asked him, as they were riding on their way to the Nabudis.

"Almost twenty-three. But I think myself too young for such matters._" I'm not ready to share my life with anybody else, not anymore._

Soon Noah and the other five men with him saw a small inn.

"I suggest we call it a night. Enough midnight riding."

* * *

There was a man in a cloak who watched them from the table in the far corner, as they drank their wine and laughed about something Noah had said. The man looked younger than most of them but his face was mature.

* * *

Noah wondered how it could be so cold outside when only half an hour ago he thought it was hellishly hot.

"Who _are_ you?"

"I'm Vayne," the man who had watched him and his now dead companions said.

"What do you want from me?"

"You. I want you for the Empire." Noah laughed bitterly.

"You want my loyalty to the imperator who destroyed my home country?"

"No, I want your loyalty to me, his son."

"I don't see how you can be different from your father. Or why do you want precisely me."

"_I_ was not the one who lead that war, Fernan Landis."

Noah had received answers to both questions now but his face still did not betray any emotion.

"I have to say that I am flattered that you mistake me for the prince of my homeland. But I will disappoint you - I am simply Noah von Ronsenburg."

"Oh, but it was your own grandmother who told me where you are."

"My grandmother? She is long dead."

"No - she lives. We had a nice little chat, you know. The last queen of Landis is a very nice old lady." Noah was silent, inwardly bursting with so many emotions - hope, happiness, sadness, nostalgia, rage.

"You are speaking lies. I shall not trust the words of Gramis' son."

"But _of course_ you shouldn't trust me on my words solely! _Especially_ when I have a proof!" And Vayne showed to the prince of Landis his grandmother's locket. His brother, him and this family jewel were the only things she had taken from the palace, when they fled through its secret passages on that horrible, horrible night that had changed their lives forever. "I only propose you to switch alliances and have the chance to look after a woman who had suffered only so much in life she could take. Be merciful."

Noah's whole heart and soul cried out that if he joined Vayne that night, it would be his biggest mistake. He would be the monster that had haunted his dreams as a child and as a young adult - a dog of the Archadian army.

Then Vayne promised that when he became the imperator, he would return a part of Landis to its rightful prince, so that it would have the chance to become the kingdom it once was.

This tickled Noah's resolution - he and Basch had spent their whole childhood, dreaming of the day they would bring back what was rightfully theirs.

But he had long learned that promises were made to be broken.

"And your brother, 'Basch'? Is he not the same? Has he not become the faithful dog of Dalmasca, the country who fell from grace in the eyes of many when they aided us to pillage a land that was tied to them with so many alliances?"

_My brother... he has abandoned me. Not by going to serve to Raminas - this was not by his choice - but by giving his heart to Dalmasca._

"Become my judge, Fernan. Restore your kingdom and see once again the only person who loves you and would never forget you," Vayne said. "But never tell the imperator that you're mine..." Noah gritted his teeth.

"Why me?" It was not a refusal.

Vayne smiled.

"Because you were the prince of Landis. Do I need any other argument?"

Two weeks later, in Dalmasca, a letter slipped from the cold, shocked hands of Noah's brother who cried out for the first time in years.

* * *

Noah was shaking. He hadn't come to Guillemaut, the second largest city of Landis, since he was a child. When he saw a poor old man beaten by some Archadian soldier, his heart and soul screamed out in disgust and self-hatred.

_I am one of them now. Not a prince returned to save his people, but a nameless tyrant to only watch their sufferings and do nothing. Hush now, heart. Do not grieve. Do not berate me. Soul, do not rip into two. I must endure. One day I will return a king and wipe away the tears of my people and treat to their wounds. But now I must stay strong and pretend to be deaf to their cries._

Still his heart drummed in his ribs, like a bird that had for years been encaged and now awaited release.

The air of Landis, even spoiled and enslaved, was the sweetest thing his lungs had breathed. So beautiful was it in its scent, it made his eyes water and his soul soar.

_I've missed you, homeland. I've missed you, air. I've missed you, faces so like my own. I've missed you houses, however poor and ruined you may seem. I've missed you trees and birds of Landis. I've missed you, earth on which my boots walk._

And he saw an old woman, who looked older than the world itself and his heart went silent.

_I've missed you._

Memories and grief for what was lost, for the ruins he was now in, and happiness. And shame.

What would she think? She would surely hate him, despise him. Would she understand him? Would she see how he gritted his teeth every time someone called him 'Archadian'?

She now regarded him with weariness and fear and he realized he was still with his helmet. He threw the damned thing that reminded him of a demon on the ground and looked at the last queen of Landis, Marie.

She regarded him like she would regard a dear ghost. And a ghost he was.

"My child! My dear, sweet child! Why did you return?" Her voice was so old and broken, so filled with the love of a mother that chided her child for doing some naughty, that his breath hitched.

"Oh, grandmother... I am sorry... I am so, _so_ sorry..." And before he knew it, Fernan was running to the arms of the woman who had read stories to him as an infant, who had spent her free afternoons with him in the gardens, who had invited him and his traitorous brother to dine with her every night.

To those who saw it, the view of an Archadian knight from Landis crying in the arms of his enslaved grandmother was the most heartbreaking thing in the world.

* * *

"How did Vayne find you?" he asked, once they entered a ruin of a house that was his grandmother's hut.

"He... he said he had been searching for me and that he had been searching for you for an even longer period. You must not trust him, Fernan. I know of his promises, of his supposed plans but I am confident he will not keep them."

Noah had already been sure there was more to the prince's plans for him than he cared to share and hearing the story of his grandmother frustrated him to no end.

"I will not. Never mind Vayne now. I came to find _you_. You will never have to work anymore. You will have everything. I will always take care of you from now on."

The queen shook her head. "How can I bear to live in luxury? Look at them!" she shouted, motioning towards their people they could see through the window. "It would not be fair..."

"God damn it, woman! Of course it is not fair! But I will _not_ lose you too!" Marie's eyes widened in fear.

"Me too? Fernan, what happened to Antoine?"

Noah's face screwed from bitterness and hatred. "He betrayed us to Dalmasca."

"Like you betrayed us to the Empire?" the queen asked and her voice was full of disappointment for both of her grandsons. Noah wanted her to understand how higher was his brother's treason to him.

"He lost his heart to Dalmasca!"

"He fell in love with a Dalmascan girl?" She still did not understand. If only Basch simply married a shepherd girl from Rabanastre, then he would have forgiven him before he could even blink at the news.

"He fell in devotion with the Dalmascan princess. Please, come with me, grandmother. I cannot keep losing the people I love. I am completely alone in a land I despise. "

The queen looked out through the window again, then at the young man before her and sighed. "I _will_ come with you. How could you think I even had a choice about that matter? You are my grandson."

Noah's smile was more sincere than it had been in years. "Thank you."

* * *

"Basch, why do you call uncle Halim 'Godfather' sometimes?" Ashelia asked him one day, her voice painting smoky trails in the air . They were sitting on a bench in the gardens of her father and the cold winter sun was beginning to set.

"Because he gave me and my brother our names," the knight told her in a quiet voice.

"So he was a family friend?"

"No, your highness, he helped me and my brother escape from Landis. After the Empire conquered it, they forbade the usage of our language - including the names. Everyone who did not want to be accused of being loyal to the old regime had to change his name. Marquis Ondore gave us our new ones." The princess looked thoughtfully at the now orange sky and he watched as the soft light fell on her face.

Basch thought she looked like a goddess, so beautiful she was at this instant.

"What was your name before that? Before the fall of your country?"

The knight hesitated - this was something only a handful of people in the world knew. It was a hint to the past, to who he really was.

"Antoine. My name was Antoine."

"Only Antoine? Without a family name?" Basch did not wish to say anything more and, thankfully, she understood and respected his decision. "Antoine of Landis. Such a simple, beautiful name. I envy you."

The knight smiled. "And now, your highness, I have this enormous name to rival yours. At least yours is pronounced more easily than Basch von Ronsenburg."

Ashe smiled and leaned into him, breathing him in. Her head did not touch his shoulder - her warm presence only ghosted over it.

The sunset both broke his heart and mended it.

Later that day, it snowed for the first time in years and, inside the palace, Vossler teased his friend about something that involved the princess and getting him warm; Ashe herself, on the other hand, was running late.

Opening the door to the room her tutor was waiting her in, she tripped, but the viera let her use his hand as support before she lost further balance.

"I am sorry, Master Ned," she said, blushing.

"Never apologize for something like tripping. It will seem as though you are unconfident and the people would not trust someone who lacks the quality. Furthermore, everyone would only start to notice it even more and would think their princess is usually clumsy." Ashe nodded, blushing even more. "Never mind that now - let us begin, as we are running out of time till dinner."

And the princess began practicing the wedding waltz - she would dance it in front of hundreds of people in only two weeks, after all.

* * *

Lord Rasler had been her close friend ever since childhood and she had come to like him very much. At seventeen, she had come to think of him even as a potential lover. He had the kind of a character she knew could heal all kinds of wounds. His spirit brought to her inspiration, but his voice made her nervous. She had not known if it was a good thing or not at first, but then an old maid that was like a mother to her told her that it was a sign of falling in love, so it was a wonderful thing.

The princess felt for him sweet and pure and kind love.

She had no doubt that she would be happy with him, but...

He was not Basch. Even when it came to marriage, even when it came to friendship, to anything at all - anyone who was not him was not enough.

She wished to ask him for advice, but she knew he would just feel awkward. He would tell her that he did not deserve her high opinion. That if she could not lower the pedestal she put him on, she had to at least rise Rasler's.

And that was what she was going to try to do, in order to have the chance of true happiness, one day.

* * *

"Lord Rasler!" Ashe screamed as she ran to him.

"Ashelia..." He smiled and embraced her. Ashe smiled into his chest. He smelled like cedar tree and her childhood.

Basch stood behind her, like a marble statue. He was silently giving her his support, making the nervousness go away.

"I am so glad to see you!" Rasler smiled.

"Me too."

Despite the fact that it was the reaction that was awaited from the future spouses, those who really knew Rasler's subtle character and Ashe's fiery one, knew that their emotions were not feigned.

* * *

Ashe spent the rest of the time before her wedding almost constantly either practicing for the wedding ritual or with her future husband.

She could now picture the rest of her life with him, them complementing one another, ruling together, simply being happy.

The last days before the wedding always ended with dances. When once, she and Rasler were dancing, she realized that she was undoubtedly attracted to him. When that same night at the balcony of the dance hall he kissed her with only the moon as their witness, she realized she had fallen in love for the first time.

Needless to say she was terrified.

He smiled in his own confident way, his eyes never leaving hers as he kissed her once more.

"You know despite it being an arranged, political marriage, I am happy that it is you." _I am happy..._

Ashe's heart felt like it was flying.

"I am happy too."

He then leaned to her face again and she closed her eyes, thinking he was going to kiss her once more. Instead he whispered into her ear:

"Tonight we dance, princess." And he took her hand and lead her back to the ballroom.

She had never felt more alive before.

* * *

Basch almost shattered the bottle of alcohol as he set it on the table. It was half empty.

"Hey, watch it, Rossenburg, " his longtime friend, Vossler, slurred. "'S alcohol from Nabradia, and you know that Nabradia's alcohol is the best."

"'f course. Nabradia's everything is the best," he seethed. Vossler looked at him critically (as critically as a drunk could look).

"What's your problem, Basch. Has some woman gotten into you? When did you last ge' laid, actually?"

"So long ago, I feel like crying. The princess has monopolized my attention for the last..." He could not continue. Vossler patted him on the shoulder - tonight Basch was without his armor.

"'S a good thing you'll stop being her nanny at the day of her weddin' then, right?" Basch grabbed a handful of his blond hair and looked at the bottle. His expression was that of a burning man.

"It's not a good thing, Voss. I'll miss her every waking... nay, every breathing moment of my existence."

"Shit. Ya weren't kidding when you said she has monopolized your attention. You love 'er?"

"I do. But I'm not sure what kind of love I feel for her." Vossler, being the loyal friend he was, did not berate him for his feelings for the princess. He simply cursed again and asked:

"You wanna kick Rasler's face every time he touches her?"

"Absolutely."

"Do you wish you were him?" This question startled him.

_I do not wish. I simply __**live with the knowledge **__it could have been me, if I were still the prince of Landis._

Seeing that Basch did not say anything, Vossler simply assumed that the silence held his answer and patted him again.

"Now, at least I can solve one of your problems. You're not going to bed alone tonight." Basch laughed.

"I'm sorry, Voss, I don't stray your way. I'm not so completely despaired." Vossler stuttered something that had to express his disgust.

"I don't stray my way too, don't worry. I was speakin' of - oh, here she comes - Maria!" A dark, beautiful courtesan appeared before them, a coy smile on her face.

"How can I help you?" She had Nabradian accent.

_Oh, the irony._

* * *

"Princess, you look absolutely beautiful!" one of her ladies-in-waiting exclaimed as she entered the room.

"That wedding dress looks ravishing!"

"Thank you," Ashe said, smiling.

"Lord Rasler will fall in love even more!"

Ashe remembered how two days ago he had whispered _'I love you' _in her ear and shivered.

"You're so lucky, princess!"

How did she deserve such happiness? What unbelievably good thing had she done in a past life?

"Speaking of lucky, forgive me for saying it, but I'd say that the entre female population will become a little bit luckier on your wedding day, your highness. I won't tell you from where I heard it, but I did hear that now that your knight Basch will stop being your bodyguard, he has become a lot more... daring with the women. I heard that he's a terrifically good lover."

"A... what?" She did not want to picture Basch of all people making love to someone. It did not feel right.

"Perhaps it is hard for you to imagine him like that, princess, as he is your friend, but he is one really _handsome_ man."

* * *

The night before her wedding Ashe could not fall asleep, thinking of all those things the women had said.

Just thinking of him as a man, not a friend or a knight or anything else at all, made her breath hitch. It made her feel... strange. Anxious. Hot.

And now she realized why her heart had fluttered so much for so long around him.

_Oh, Gods, why did I have to realize I have fallen in lust with him on the day before my wedding to another?_

He was going to cease being her knight, hers, and hers alone tomorrow.

Would he still be her friend? If so, how would she act around him?

Suddenly, she stood up and exited her door.

_What am I doing? Visiting him in the middle of the night like this? What will I tell him? What will I do?_

_But..._

_This is my last chance. I am not sure for what exactly, but I feel that this is my last chance._

She stopped herself just as she touched the handle of his door.

_I cannot. This is foolish. I shall regret whatever happens behind this door for the rest of my life. I would not be able to stop myself tonight, if I enter._

* * *

He knew he would do nothing, he would not go to her chambers. What could he tell her, really?

Still he held on the handle of his door for a few moments, feeling oddly calmed.

As long as he held on, there was still a chance to go and tell her...

* * *

_'It's the hotness that makes me think these forbidden thoughts'_ they both thought and let go, each returning to his bed._ Never mind that it was always hot in the Dalmascan desert._

Sleep was not merciful enough to visit them tonight.

* * *

It was a beautiful wedding that was only followed by a peaceful, loving and happy marriage.

Princess Ashelia felt both unhappy and relieved that she did not see her knight as frequently as before. In fact, it seemed as though they always passed each other. She found herself missing his constant presence, and the serenity in his eyes, his humble nature. He had been hers for so long, she had almost taken him for granted.

* * *

Rasler radiated passion and patriotism for both his home country and his present one. He always made her feel alive in ways she had not known existed before. He hated the roles they played because he found them soul-depriving.

He had been her first and possibly only and had shown nothing but gentleness and sweet love to her. He became her soft spot, her weakness and she did not mind that in the least, because it was a sign of love.

Pitty that Destiny did not let them have the time to properly start loving one another, because within mere weeks after the wedding the conflict between Archadia and Dalmasca began.

Thus the conflict entered the history books: _'__Nabradia, fearing the military might of the Archadian Empire, made treaty with Rozarria to place troops from that land near her borders. Fearing an invasion of the Valendian continent by its sworn enemy, Rozarria, Archadia immediately exerted political pressure on the small kingdom. Yet Nabradia did not accede to their demands, and Emperor Gramis of Archadia was compelled to use force.__'_

And then, one night, the world as they knew it came to an end.

It was Basch who brought the news of Nabudis' destruction.

Dalmasca had little time before the Archadian shadow reached it too - no past treaties would stop the hungry beast.

Distressed about his father's welfare and his country's situation, Rasler bid goodbye to Ashe and went with the Dalmascan Knights to secure the Nalbina Fortress.

* * *

The princess looked at the most important men in her life - her father, her husband and Basch.

"You are going to war?" She felt her knees shake and fell into the arms of her prince who helped her stand up.

"Ashelia, I promise you I will return safely to you," her husband told her before he kissed the ring on her finger. Husband... it still sounded so new to her. "Do not worry." It was still so new and yet he was leaving to war, with the possibility of never coming back. She would not bear to lose him too - she had already lost so much - she would crumble and break and wither like the ashes of a flower forgotten near the fire.

He left their chambers then, to lead Dalmasca's army to Nabradia's help.

The moment the door closed, Ashe realized that there was one more person she desperately wished not to have to bid goodbye to.

"Basch, please, protect him at all costs," she told her knight. The man nodded, his jaw tightly set. "You too, stay safe." _If all else should parish, you have to live and come back to me._

"I cannot make promises, your highness, for I've learned they can so easily be stomped upon. But I will try my best to protect the prince and to bring him back to you." He did not kiss her hand, neither did she bow back to him before he turned his back on her - Dalmascan princesses did not bow to their knights.

This left her with a feeling of frustration and unfulfillment, and she realized she ached for more.

She always had.

Ashe felt her father's hand on her shoulder.

"Father. Why does fate put these trials before us? How can we keep moving on after so much?"

The king told her then:

"It may not depend on us when we stumble and fall. But it is our choice whether we stand up and continue or stay on the ground. You see, my daughter, I had never thought that I could continue living when your brothers died, but I did. I never thought I could even move if your mother died, but she did and I was still breathing. Whatever is the outcome of this war, you must know that you are strong enough to face everything."

"Even if Rasler dies?"

"Even then." Her throat closed at the thought.

"Even if Basch does not return?"

The king laughed. "He always returns. I tell you, this knight is set on not dying. If you only knew how many times he greeted Death only to run away from her!"

"How many times?" Ashe asked, feeling the blood leave her face - her father's words did not make her feel any better as was their original intent.

"Did he not tell you his name?" '_Antoine. My name was Antoine.'_

"Antoine."

The king smiled. "Antoine Artémis Landis." Ashe's breath stopped and her mouth started mirroring that of a fish. "It was Halim who saved him and his late brother, and send them to the Nalbina Fortress. Your uncle decided to tell me of their true identity from the very beginning. Only a handful people in the world know, so I ask of you to stay silent about this piece of information." Ashe nodded. "When he came to Dalmasca, at first, I had my doubts - seeing as our country had aided Archadia for the conquest of his kingdom. But then he proved himself a loyal knight and I decided to entrust him with my most precious thing - you.

"One day I confronted him. I asked him whether or not he hated me. Did he not want avenge his people? He told me then that he had learned something from his brother's death. The dead will not find release in blood. He did not want to bind himself to the memory of the fallen. He had found gladness in the simple act of dedicating himself to you and me. He _is_ loyal, Ashelia. And as long as you continue to ask him to return to you, he will even come back from hell, in order to protect you. You've chosen a good friend."

_I've chosen a good man to entrust half my heart to. The other half belongs to another good man. Now they have both left me to go to war and my heart is gone with them, with a possibility never to return. This makes me wonder: did I give each a worthy half a heart in exchange for their two? I think not._

* * *

The air was slapping Basch's face like a long lost lover; the adrenaline was rushing through his veins. He thought about all the reasons why he was going to fight in this war. Never in a million years, as a child would he have thought that he would become so loyal to his surrogate country. That he would become so completely devoted to one person.

He looked at his prince and their eyes met. Basch had heard about Rasler throughout all his life – when he was a nothing but a child-prince he remembered hearing the happy news of his birth; when he was a knight he remembered seeing him train when he visited the Nalbina Fortress, or when he was publically going for a walk with some noblemen; he remembered how many times her highness, Ashe, spoke of him throughout all _her_ life.

Basch had no doubt that he was at least half as famous to Rasler - as the lost prince of Landis, as one of the best knights of Nabradia, as his wife's friend.

* * *

In the beginning the battle went well for Dalmasca – they used a combination of unmanned kamikaze airships filled with oil, flaming arrows, and a chocobo cavalry charge to wipe out the Archadian vanguard.

The prince seemed extremely optimistic – he had looked unbeatable on his bird.

Basch himself fared well but he did not let himself think of victory so soon – the main body of the Archadian army had yet to appear.

And appear it did, along with two Judge Magisters – the strongest warriors in all of Ivallice.

The knight and the prince hurried to Nalbina, the one shooting arrows that never missed and the other - cutting down every enemy on his way.

"The Fortress is lost! We must withdraw!" Basch shouted at Rasler.

"No! The paling still stands!"

The Dalmascan knights continued fighting, until in the middle of the battle a small task force disappeared, along with one of the Judges.

"They've gone inside!" one of the warriors yelled, before he was silenced by a blade in the throat.

"They'll disable the paling!" Suddenly the wall that had provided the Fortress with its last protection disappeared and they were showered by fire arrows and Archadian ships.

"The paling's fallen!" Rasler dully noted.

"Then it's over," Basch said. He had to protect Rasler now, he had to return him to Ashe.

_If all else should parish -_

"For my father..." Rasler murmured.

_- and all the stars were to fall -_

"For my father!" Rasler cried out, intent not to disengage from the battle. It was his bloodlust that blinded him in the end.

Basch noticed the shooter first and hurried to send his arrow to his heart.

Too late.

"Lord Rasler!" he screamed, but the enemy's arrow had already reached its goal.

_-__**she**__ had to still burn - the brightest light in the starless sky..._

Basch threw himself at Rasler's chocobo and secured the fallen prince so that he would not fall. He was going to get them out of this gods forsaken limbo, no matter how many enemies he had to go through.

It seemed as though the Gods had cried their mercy to him at last, for a burning ship fell and crushed. Amidst the diversion of everyone's attention, Basch saw his chance to escape.

Too late again though, for Rasler had stopped breathing. He had uttered only one word - 'Ashe' - and was no more.

Thus ended the line of the Royal House of Nabradia.

_**NO!**__ Have you not taken so much from her already, Gods? How much more pain can she bear?_

_How much more __**shame **__can __**I**__ bear?_

Nalbina fell gloriously - each of its defenders, save a few who managed to escape, had battled to their last breath for it.

Archadia was to sweep over the remaining Dalamascan resistance within months.

* * *

Basch rode all night untill he reached the Dalmasca palace.

Ashe and the king had awaited at the gate, possibly because they had had a premonition of what was coming on their way.

Basch would never in his life forget the look on her face when she saw him with the dead prince.

It was as though he had fallen in her eyes, fallen even lower than the now destroyed tower of the Fortress. It was as though her spirit had fallen along with him.

She did not slap him, even though he wished she did. Her broken expression hurt him more than a hundred spears and he would have welcomed _them_ gladly, if only for the sake of never seeing that look.

* * *

Ashe looked at the coffin where her husband's cold body lay.

"Blessings of the great Father, descend," the priest said. "And guide your body's return to the earth." She wished to remember each soft line of his face, to engrave it into her mind. "Great Father, guide your spirit's return to the Mother of All." He was so young, too young - their life together had been before them. So much future happiness was lost. So much past memories were ruined because of guilt and grief. "And then you shall find peace."

Ashe buried her childhood and her innocence along with Rasler.

_If all else should parish..._


	4. Night Descends

**Chapter ****4****: ****Night Descends**

Judge Gabranth's heavy, metal footsteps resounded throughout the long halls of the palace. Entering one of the smallest rooms he was greeted by Vayne's cold eyes.

Gabranth's stomach fell at the sight of him. He both admired and hated the prince.

Vayne was a spoiled, wicked thing. He was a truly good strategist - possibly one of the few things his father, the Imperator, appreciated about him. His eyes only held some sparkle when he regarded his little brother, prince Larsa. It was a thriling thing for those who saw their interactions as they bore in mind how he had murdered the rest of his brothers in cold blood.

"Why did you call me, Vayne?" Gabranth was the only one the prince would not kill for treating him like an equal. In a way, he was.

"Because the time for your most important task has come."

"My most important task?"

"You are going to be the one who will bring Dalmasca to its fall. Are you going to help me?" Gabranth couldn't make his decision in a heartbeat, as he originally would have thought. Bring down a nation to its fall? "It is going to be an almost bloodless procedure, for the both sides. It will seem as though we are saving the country, not devouring it. You will finally get your revenge."

_This is not going to restore Landis. But it is going to almost make up for what Dalmasca has done to me._

"What is your brilliant plan, Vayne?" Gramis' son smiled.

"First, a rumor will be spread that there is a plan for the assassination of King Raminas. Then Dalmasca will be offered a peace treaty which is the indirect way of offering of bloodless surrender. The signing will take place in the recently conquered Nalbina Fortress. Once the treaty is signed, the king will be killed before the eyes of your brother's soldiers. By him... or at least so his people would think."

It all made sense now -why precisely Vayne had chosen him, of all people. Not because he was a prince of Landis -though certainly having the loyalty of one of the two legal heirs to the throne of conquered kingdom had its benefits - but because he was the twin of someone who belonged to the king's inner circle. The prince's plan was so simple, so obvious, yet so complex in the same time.

"Your brother will be punished for his crimes. To Dalmasca, he will be dead soon after his treachery. To us, he will be a prisoner to keep marquis Ondore silent and only a marquis, as he will be the next and only in the line of Dalmasca's throne, after the princess accidentally dies. You have to admit that the plan is good. The question was: are you, the key figure in it, willing to participate in it?"

Gabranth had to think again. So many emotions battled inside him.

_Antoine. Brotherhood. Betrayal. Love. Hate. Secretly alive._

_Dalmasca. Revange. Guilt. Broken promises. Separated us._

_Landis. Loyalty. Pain. Loss._

_Archadia. Life. Chance._

For so long he had stayed in the Empire, proving his loyalty to the very people who brought him down and changed his life forever.

He did not believe that Vayne would give him back a piece of Landis but he always had access to their inner circle. They were vulnerable there. When the time came, he would end the royal line and the Empire would be long enough in chaos for the people of the small enslaved kingdoms to rise up against it. Stilll...

_Antoine. _

_Dalmasca._

_Landis. _

_The Empire. _

"Yes."

Gabranth's soul was damaged, his heart was black. He had become his own enemy, wallowing in self-hatred and dispair.

He did not know how to make it all right. It was as if this ability was lost along with his brother's presence in his life.

He was sinking lower and lower as he was rising higher and higher in the Empire's eye.

Only one thing was certain: he now truly deserved the vile helmet on his head.

"Well then, that's all."

Gabranth nodded and turned to leave.

"How is your grandmother, by the way?" the prince asked. Gabranth gritted his teeth for a second.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Am I forbidden to be interested in a royalty's welfare? You know, she is a distant relative of mine. Though in the royal families, everyone is related. Is not princess Ashelia of Dalmasca your third cousin?" Gabranth spoke nothing of the latter questions but decided to answer the first.

"She died of a heart attack this autumn."

"I am sorry," Vayne said in his usual, expressionless voice.

* * *

In the middle of the night Ashelia was awoken by voices in front of her bedroom.

"I've come for her." It was Basch! They had returned! Ashe stood up swiftly.

"Are you mad? The king - dead, our whole army - slaughtered!? " Her breath hitched. She remembered now. "And the traitor was your twin who was thought to be dead? We have a witness, Basch! That boy Rex you wounded, remember him? He died yesterday. But not before he told us of what you did." Yesterday? Why had no one told her that the man had spoken? She'd thought he was in a comma.

"Vossler, I beg you, believe me! The princess is in mortal danger!"

"Gods! What misfortune has befallen us! I now must arrest my best friend!"

"Vossler! Please! Hear my words! Ashe - " Ashe silently fell on her bed in a sitting position.

"_Ashe_? _Ashe_ indeed! I will die before I let you inside that chamber! Or will you kill me too? Guards!"

"Vossler!"

"Arrest this traitor!"

Basch's cries echoed through the halls.

A long moment later the princess heard a knock on the door.

"En..." her voice was so tiny she barely heard it escape with her breath. She could still hear Basch's pleas. Ashelia cleared her throat. "Enter!"

It was Vossler, unsurprisingly. He found her still sitting on her bed, staring at the floor, her hands on her knees.

"I figure you've heard it all. I'm sorry - when I saw him, he was already before your door. The... the rat," Pain was visible in her friend's face in the half-moonlit chamber at those words. "He knew his place around the castle. No one noticed him before me."

"Take him to the dungeons. He shall be sentenced acc... accordingly. Leave me now, Vossler. Please." There was no need for the plea in the end of her words, but she was so desperate at the moment that she did not care.

Everything she had looked up to had come crushing down before her feet.

_Yet, I do not wish him dead. I wish him alive so he could feel the pain I would afflict upon him. I wish him alive so he would suffer as I do. I wish him alive..._

* * *

The day of the execution came and went but neither Ashe, nor Vossler could bring themselves to go to the process. They did not even have the bravery to see the body of the one they had so loved at a time. Secretly though, a cloaked figure paid the executioner one hundred gill to bury the body in the sacred grounds in a nameless tomb, as opposed to the undedicated grave of a criminal. The cloaked figure did not know that the executioner had already been bribed about something much more important.

In the end, Vossler did listen to what were publically Basch's last words to him (for he had gone on one last visit in the dungeons, to bid goodbye to his once friend) and investigated for some yet unconfirmed treat against the queen-to-be. It turned out that Vayne had paid one of the lady's most trusted maids to poison her meals. Realizing that this treat would not end with the imprisoned servant, Ashe, Vossler and their most trusted knights fled from the palace one night and went underground. A few days later, Ashelia's uncle - Marquis Ondore - announced to Dalmasca that she had committed suicide from grief for her beloved father and husband.

"Where are you taking me?" Basch shouted from inside the closed carriage (it seemed its original purpose had been for transporting livestock, for it reeked severely of chocobos and some unmentonable things).

No one bothered to answer.

He frowned - and immediately regretted doing so because the wound on his face still hadn't closed.

He had not been executed. Why had they let him live? Some other machination of the Empire, perhaps?

He hugged his knees and rested his head on them.

He tried not to think of Vossler, Ondore and Ashe. There was no use. To think about Gabranth too wouldn't help, so he tried to remember some old poems and songs from Landis. Anything but the thoughts of his future and the people of his past was welcome.

After a few hours the carriage stopped.

* * *

Basch was in a cell - beaten, bloody and half-unconscious, his hands and legs bounded by chains.

Just as he felt he was about to succumb to sweet oblivion, he heard painfully familiar footsteps and heavy metal clanking. His heartbeat speeded.

Gabranth did not bother with pleasantries - he did not say 'why hello brother', or 'so we meet again', or even give him a wicked, evil grin. Basch's brother simply stared with something akin to terror on his face.

"Why do I live?" Basch asked in a raw from screaming voice.

"To keep Ondore silent," was the answer in a voice just like his own.

As children they had used the striking resemblance in their faces and voices to play tricks on everyone in the royal court back home - only their grandmother had seemed able to tell them apart. Could he have ever dared to imagine even in his worst nightmare, that their likeness would be used for such a terrible, ugly thing one day?

"Why?" Was Basch's next question.

* * *

Gabranth understood the implications of the single questioning word. _Why did you betray me?_

"I did not betray you, Basch. It was you who is the traitor." Something flickered through his brother's eyes. Ah. "Your princess. You loved her?" Basch did not respond. But how could one not read a face that was his own? To most men he would seem to emit dignity, furrowing his brows like this and looking towards the ceiling. But he knew that it meant resignation - it was the tremble on the chin that proved it. "Your princess committed suicide this morning. "

"You lie." Was Basch's immediate answer.

"I do not. Ondore announced it publically. She killed herself from grief. But for who? Your king, your prince, your kingdom, or maybe... you? Were you lovers? Secretly seeing each other behind everyone's back after Rasler's death? Perhaps even during his life? Did you rejoice at his funeral? Dance at his grave?"

"Enough," Basch whispered. No, Gabranth would not stop. He felt odd satisfaction at the weakened state of his copy.

"Perhaps you were lovers from long before the wedding? Come to think of it, in your letters you did sound awfully devoted to her. Perhaps even then? And she was what, Basch? Only twelve? Were you her first knight with a pretty, big, shiny sword in more ways than one?"

"Stop it, Noah," The Dalmascan knight said weakly.

The feeling of satisfaction disappeared. Gabranth now felt what he had felt when he first saw the state of his twin a few minutes ago. The emotions that shifted within him were like ice and fire and truthfully, he felt a bid mad because of this.

He cleared his throat.

"Half of the knights of Dalmasca have disappeared in the recent days. There are rumors that they'd be creating a resistance for the new regime. Twenty-seven people, all of them your friends and allies. Or past ones, at least. The Empire will hunt them down, but you will give us information for them before that."

"I won't tell anything."

"Perhaps after a few months or years like this your answer will change." Gabranth turned to leave.

"Why, brother?" Basch repeated again. Gabranth now knew he would not turn back towards his brother so as to not allow his screwed expression be seen.

"Because you really are a traitor, Basch. Just not in the way most people think...Now _all_ of your beloved ones either hate you or are dead. How do you manage that, Basch?"

"It was never in my hands." Basch finally replied. "And I can at least remember that they loved me, once. For a dead man that's more than enough. Better even."

* * *

_B__etter for them to hate me and be glad, than to love me and suffer._

"Do you not feel ashamed of your disgrace?" _There is so much shame upon me that if I cared by now I'd be mad._

"I've failed to protect everything I love. What is shame to me?"

Gabranth went away then - no goodbyes, as there were no hellos and how do you dos.

As soon as he was alone, Basch let himself mentally collapse.

_Ashe, Ashe... __Why did you do this? I thought you stronger than that._

Had she died with her last thought of him? A last goodbye, fare-thee-well, 'Curse you Basch, I'll meet you in hell'? Had she hated him in her last moments as much as he loved her in his every breathing one?

_How am I to live now? How am I to breath and will my heart to beat if you're gone?_

It is bizarre how in the most critical times the human beings find inner strength and -illogical- willpower they had not known they possessed.

Each day for a month, Gabranth visited him and asked him 'Why do you live?'. It was not a stupid, aimless question, but a sign of his amazement. Most people would have gone mad, would have broken, would have bitten their tongues and died. All that Basch did was returning the original answer: 'To keep Ondore silent'.

* * *

_There was nothing but sands and ruins around them._

_"I wish I could turn back time to say a proper goodbye to you__,__" Ashe said. Basch turned to her__. Was there some sort of sadness there? Or was it just the scenery? Or was it just her own desperate desire?_

_"What would the goodbye have been? A kiss or a knife in the heart?"_

_"I do not know. Perhaps both."_

_"It would not have been such a bad death, then. I've seen far worse." She buried her head in his chest. He sighed in the sense someone __who has journeyed endless years sighs when he finally sees his home. _ _"If things had went differently, if at least I had escaped, I__ would __ have taken you to Landis." She shook her head and breathed in his scent - she loved it, she missed it, she despised it._

_"I would have loved that."_

* * *

Amalia awoke feeling tired of being angry. Anger only lasted so long to leave you feeling tired of everything. It would return, though. By morning it always returned.

It was the night she feared -the night when her other feelings emmerged.

* * *

He did not know it now but after a few hours Gabranth would come again and ask him about the leader of the Resistance - the Empire knew only that it had been a woman by the name Amalia. He would remember of the story he read to Ashe when she had been a child- of a hard-working princess who had saved herself from a locked tower- and he would know it finally, in his heart and mind, that she really had been alive all this time.


	5. The Hearth

**Chapter ****5****: ****The hearth**

Gabranth turned away from the window of his room and was startled to see the Emperor of The Archadian Empire before him. He steeled his heart and kneeled.

"My lord." Gramis regarded him coldly.

"Rise, Judge Magister Gabranth. And remove your helmet." Gabranth did as he was told and frowned as his blond locks fell in his eyes. He had grown unused to keep it so long from his young years, but for the sake of his mission to impersonate Basch, he had had to let it grow. After that he just forgot to bother with trimming it. "How are you faring?" The older man asked without much interest. It seemed vaguely similar to Vayne's attitude towards the world.

"Well, my lord. And yourself?" the Judge returned. The Emperor grunted something in response which Gabranth could only guess was 'good' and neared the window so he could look at his Empire.

Rienna, the highest distinct in the first level of Dun Firra, the Imperial city of The Archadian Empire (though no one called it like this anymore) looked mildly beautiful. The streets were vast and marble, the houses of the nobles were like palaces and it smelled like tropic fruits everywhere (mainly because the inner gardens of the small palaces were filled with such trees). The weather was always sunny and unimaginably hot. Gabranth did not like his neighbors much (though the neighborhood he could bear with). They were all snobs who prided themselves with being 'well-informed' (education was the most important thing in all The Archadian Empire - being knowledgeable brought half of the pride to the people - the other half being their money and status). They began their education as soon as they were able to speak and before they could even pronounce things correctly. In short, all of them were like a more boring, soulless and even stiffer version than Gabranth's only childhood friend.

"I see that you are prospering," Gramis spoke again. The Judge cleared his throat (he realized that it had become a habit for him, when he did not know what to say or do).

"...I am, my lord. It is because of my military success. Being a Judge Magister and the General to all your northern armies..." Gabranth inwardly winced. Had he forgotten how to speak properly? Had all those years in knighthood and later as The Archadian Empire's spy dog, being under cover in other countries and blending in with the lower society done this to him? Could the etiquette and the properness be forgotten? He had always thought it was like riding a chocobo: one never forgets. Such shame - and to think he had once been a prince...

"Does it bring you happiness?" was Gramis' next question. The younger man did not understand it.

"Pardon, my lord?" Gabranth winced again. Trust him to say something that sounded so Landisian in front of the conqueror of his homeland.

"Does your fortune bring you happiness?" the Emperor repeated his words once more, louder.

_Am I happy? No. No, I am a miserable, broken sod who hides behind a mask. A mask with so many layers I forgot where the core lies. Who was the real me? Did I love what I thought I hated and hated what I thought I loved? What did I really enjoy and what irritated the real me?_

"As I thought," the Emperor said, finding the answer in the silence. "How can one be happy when alone? Even when living in a palace, the silence of nobody is killing away all the possible joy in the riches. You are not married, are you?"

"No, I am not."

"Have you ever thought of beginning a family of your own? Getting a wife and having children of your own?" Gabranth shook his head.

"There are higher priorities for me, my lord," he answered. Gramis smiled.

"You are just like my son."

"Which one?"

"Vayne, of course." Gabranth did not appreciate the comparison very much. "Both of you are focused on your military jobs, and would not stop even if you had to betray your own family. Your brother, Basch, did you never think to follow him?" the Emperor asked. It was a question asked neither for the first, nor for the last time.

"I followed his every move."

"I did not mean it like that. He was the only piece of Landis you had left after your grandmother died. Did you never think to do something for him? Free him from his prison, perhaps?"

_So this was why the emperor had come. To question my loyalty._

"The Republic of Landis is long since gone. My alliance lies wholly with the Empire." Those were words he had learned by heart. They were half true. The Republic he cared not about.

But...

He would give his life if he could see the Royal Capital standing there with all its previous glory just one more time.

"Is that so?" The Emperor raised an eyebrow. "And do you not blame me for conquering the kingdom?"

He blamed him. But he blamed the Senate even more. He had long since learned that the royal family were nothing but puppets as the people from the Senate were the puppet masters. Vayne was the only exception - he hated 'those manipulating bastards' and swore that the first thing he would do once he sat on the throne would be to remove them from his way. Permanently. If this prince truly could feel real emotions it was love towards his little brother and hatred towards machinations other than his own.

"I respect you, my lord," Gabranth responded truthfully, evading the real answer to the question. How could he not at least respect this man? During his rule The Archadian Empire became thrice bigger than it had originally been. During his time this country became a true Empire, as opposed to just a piece of land with the crown of an undeserved title.

"It is enough for me. I do not want my subordinates to love me - an Empire this big can only be ruled by fear and respect." Gramis sighed. "I want to tell you only one more thing and I shall leave you with your thoughts and your solitude, Gabranth. Or should I say Noah? Or Fernan? Bathe in the glory of the traitors, bathe in fame and money. But know they have no heart, no soul, no shoulder to cry on. They have no voice and no touch. You may be my greatest General and my best Judge Magister but in the end of the day you are nothing but a simple slave of The Archadian Empire. Farewell. I leave you be."

As the door closed with quiet _shut_, the young man's knees gave in.

_Why did he come to tell me this? It was a sharp truth that had already pierced my heart._

Later that day Drace and Zagrabaath visited him. When they found him sitting lifelessly in his armchair, looking pale and deeply troubled, they decided that he had to go out and enjoy the life a little (but not before Drace trimmed his hair and shaved him- she had said that should he ever remove his helmet the people would think that a moogle had attacked him and stolen his belongings).

When twilight came, Gabranth found himself and the two closest to friends he had walking down the streets of Old Archades. Apparently it was not a good thing to still be in their armors, since they created some commotion.

"Oh, look! It's the Judge Magisters!"

"And that's Gabranth!"

"No way!"

"They told me you were a giant!" a child exclaimed.

The Judges shared a look and retreated.

An hour later they were back in the 'poor distinct' wearing the civilian clothes that had been underneath all the metal (they had hidden their attire in a near stable), in an old pub called _'The Oyster'_ and with a big goblet of wine in front of each one of them.

Gabranth felt a small smile on his face as the married couple stood up to dance to a song from a longago-enslaved country (theirs). There were many people dancing to this song, but his eyes were locked only on his friends.

They were Judges, but they were also humes - they loved to laugh and to love. They had each other. He could not say that for many soldiers.

Gabranth did not like the other Judges - he found Bergan arrogant, Ghis -stuck-up, Zecht had been a good fellow but he disappeared, and Hausen simply unnerved him. Then there was Ffamran... but he ran away. There had also been Carius but he rotted somewhere in the Nalbina prison, after he refused to sentence his son and wife for treason (for helping some refuges from Dalmasca who had turned out to be a part of the Dalmascan Resistance).

Drace was a young woman in the beginning of her thirties and she was wholly dedicated to prince Larsa (she had always wanted to have a child of her own, but being a Judge Magister did not allow her to). Zagrabaath was a man in the middle of his forties with platinum blond hair (so blond, many people thought it was white). He loved Drace like no other husband before him had loved a wife, even though they often argued due to the frequent difference in their opinions.

_What is more beautiful, what is better than love? Depending on the people who feel it, it can overcome all obstacles and heal all wounds. I envy those two. I envy Basch, for even if his love is impossible and tragic, he still felt it. He had had the princess by his side for so many years... Whereas I..._

The female Judge found him in the crowd, smiled and beckoned him to join the dance.

_Why not?_

Just as Gabranth got up he suddenly felt some heavy weight thrown upon him.

"You little wench! Com' 'ere!" a drunken man who looked suspiciously much like an overgrown malboro shouted, walking towards them. Gabranth looked at the person in his arms and saw that it was a young woman with gentle features and bright green eyes.

"What's your name?" he asked quickly as the man hurried toward them.

"Irisa."

"Pleasure to meet you." He smiled. She looked at him as if he was mad. At the same moment malboro-man demanded:

"Give 'er to me, you clod! I'm gonna give her a lesson for being such a wench!"

"I don't think the lady appreciates your attitude."

"I don't care what she appreciates! Give the slut to me so I can beat her up!"

"I'm not a wench, you... you bastard!" the woman shouted, outraged. Gabranth raised an eyebrow. As she insulted the man, a blush spread through her cheeks like a drop of blood in a bow of milk. "If I was I wouldn't have slapped you when you groped me! I'm a waitress!"

"I don' care what you are! Com' 'ere, or I will speak with the owner of this pub to fire you!" The waitress, Irisa, looked desperately in Gabranth and some emotion he had long ago suffocated, re-emerged in his chest. Just as malboro- man reached out to grab the woman's hand, Gabranth caught his wrist and held it so tightly that the man cried out when a painful _crack_ was heard.

_I'm tired of watching powerless people get hurt. I'm tired of watching slime like this The Archadian Empiren get everything they want. And mostly, I'm tired of feeling tired._

"If I find out that you've tried to do something to this woman in any way, I will hunt you down and devastate you. If anyone ever asks you, Irisa is only a nice girl you vaguely know. Right?"

"Who the hell are y_-aagrh_!" Gabranth had tightened his grasp. Another crack. "Alright! Aright! Just let me go, please!"

"Go, sober up somewhere."

"I think he already sobered pretty much," Zagrabaath said from behind him. As Gabranth turned to look at his friends he saw Drace's eyes follow malboro-man as he ran away from the pub and into the street like a lioness' eyes would follow a mouse.

The music and the dancing hadn't stopped because of the little scene - to the people there, it was not an unusual thing.

After all the attention had dispersed, Gabranth found himself enjoying the company of the waitress (although the pub owner had at first been patting impatiently with his foot, after a glance from the woman's companion, he suddenly stopped and began minding his own business 'Ah, never mind, there are other girls who'd serve ).

He found out this was her first month there.

"Where did you work before?"

"I worked as a slave to a noble and spoiled family (all of them are noble and spoiled) . My brother, older sisters and I worked as sewers in our free time and with their help I managed to buy my freedom. I'm saving money so that I can buy them theirs."

"From which part of The Archadian Empire are you from?"

"Is this an interrogation?" she asked and laughed quietly. "I'm from Landis." Gabranth's heart thudded at the name and he regarded her again - brown, long curls and cattishly green eyes.

"You don't really look like a Landisian."

"I'm half. Mother from Landis, The Archadian Empiren father." Many of the young Landisians he met after the occupation were with similar parentage.

He ignored the hateful, outraged twinge in his heart and the ripping sound of his soul.

"And you?" she asked. _Fair enough._

"The father of my grandfather was an The Archadian Empiren noble." Prince. "And my grandmother was from Nabradia." _She suffered the most as a queen of another, adopted country. But this is where the Nabradian name comes from (though Fernan is rarely used even amongst the most ancient houses of the kingdom)._

"But your father, mother...?"

"They don't matter. They're dead." _And I've only got my brother, the traitor._

"I'm sorry."

"So am I." He looked around. Drace and Zagrabaath were nowhere to be seen. "Never mind that now - it's all in the past." _Though I cannot seem to escape from it._ "Do you drink, Irisa?"

"Not if I can help it." Gabranth looked at her questioningly. "In a pub with drunken men who only think about booze and women, being drunk myself is never a good idea."

"Personal experience?" As the words left his mouth, he realized how bold he sounded. Irisa pinched her nose.

"No. One of the other girls." After a beat she added. "I find the sight of drunk women disgusting."

They talked about other trivial things then and Gabranth found himself forgetting all of the cares and guilt on his shoulder. He found the girl sweet, if a bit shy and he liked her.

Late into the night when the Judges were on their way to the upper distinct with their armors back on, Drace looked at Gabranth and smiled slyly.

"See, Gabranth? It wasn't so bad to go out. You even found yourself a girl friend. You should have seen the look on your face- you actually looked like a civil person."

The General of the Empire's northern armies only looked away and smiled, and for the first time in a long while he had a warm and happy feeling inside his chest.

How did he meet such a nice person right at this night? So many times before he had saved women from all kinds of situations, but never before did they end with friendship and attraction (though sometimes they _did_ end with a wild night in some inn). No matter how bizarre it sounded, he thought he might be dreaming and he might awake and realize that the night had not been as sweet.

Perhaps it was because after his conversation with the Emperor, he felt more ready for what he had never hoped to get. Perhaps now after this, the Gods were sending him something good and positive, like a mother would soothe her crying child with candy.

He was only certain that as soon as he could, he would go to Old Archades again.

* * *

As time went by, Gabranth continued visiting the girl from the pub and found a healing friendship and peace in her. It seemed to fill the loneliness in his heart. Whenever he was not running around, bidding to Vayne's or Gramis' orders, Drace and Zagrabaath always knew to look for him there, in _'The Oyster'._

Irisa would find the time to sit with him in the end of her work day - sometimes for ten minutes, sometimes for hours. It depended on the mood of the pub owner (for Gabranth couldn't always threaten him to be tolerable with his servants) and on the number of customers.

They would talk and discuss trivial things and things as deep as the ocean and the Judge would act as if he was no Judge at all, as if he did not have a care in the world, as if he had never done unforgiveable things (though at the back of his mind, in the corners of his very soul he would still be racked by the darkest feeling that he did not deserve such kindness).

"What do you believe in, Noah?" Irisa asked him one day (she still did not know who he really was, or perhaps she knew more than the rest of the world).

"Tricky question... Twenty years ago, I believed in fairytales with happy endings and righted wrongings, and that my brother would always be there for me. Ten years ago, I believed in revange and power. Three weeks ago? I simply desired to believe in atonement and second chances and love." _And then I met you. And I started believing again._ _Not the way I had believed at first, before the innocence was irrevocably lost, but in the simple act of believing._ "And you?"

"I've always believed in God. Not the blood-thirsty, cruel deities everyone believes in, but that there is one God above all the rest and he is kind and ever-forgiving." He huffed a bitter laugh.

"And why won't your God save Landis. Why won't he save us?"

"How do you know that he does not? Maybe without his help we would have been in a ten times worse situation. Either way, everything happens for a reason. I believe in this too. I also believe that patience and belief are always rewarded. Perhaps one day Landis will be a free land once more."

"Will this day come while we are alive?" he asked darkly.

"We can only hope."

Perhaps on this day he would die for the freedom of his homeland and his sins would be partially forgiven. One could only hope, as Irisa said.

"Why do we never meet outside this hole?" he asked her one day. Irisa sighed as she started cleaning the table.

"Because neither I, nor you have the time to do so."

"But we can go out tomorrow morning. No one goes to pubs in the morning. You are free. I am free. Why not?"

"Where would we go?"

"Outside."

"Har, har. No, really?"

"Outside. Of Archades. We'll be surrounded by the nature for a while, breathe in some fresh air. I hate the air in the capital - it's polluted by all kinds of smells." _The smell of not-home, mainly._

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it would be? To try to go outside? Not to mention how much walking it would take."

"Don't worry. I know a thing or two about danger - it's an old friend of mine, really. And it wouldn't take us so long if we were to go by chocobos."

"But I don't know how to ride!"

"Then one chocobo." He laughed. She looked at him with narrowed eyes that supposedly meant _'You think you're so funny but I shall never admit out loud that you really are.'_"Come on, don't you trust me?" She hesitated.

"I don't really trust your instincts, obviously. But you, I think I trust."

* * *

"There is something really regal about the way you ride this bird, Noah," she said from behind him, after they were safely out of the city.

His breath hitched and he prayed her hands would not feel the accelerated beat of his heart.

"I had time to practice."

"You know, you never told me what was your occupation."

"I'd rather not talk about it." He heard her sigh at this.

"It's not fair, really. You see me work every day and I don't even know what your job is."

"I've told you all kinds of things about myself. I just don't like to talk about some."

"Like your past, your family..."

"Irisa, if someone does not like to talk about things, it usually means that they are on his mind all the time. And usually they're not all sunshine and rainbows. Makes sense, doesn't it?" She went silent for a while and he regretted talking so meanly to her.

"I am sorry. Here you are, taking me so far away so we could have a change of scenery and I'm being particularly irritating."

"I am also sorry - for being so harsh on you."

* * *

They lay in the clearing, surrounded by lavender and he turned to her, leaning on his arm. She looked at him with a certain wild, yet innocent flicker in her eyes and in this moment he knew he cared about someone for the first time in years. He tucked a lock that had fallen on her face behind her ear.

"What was your name before? What is your real name?" Gabranth asked her.

"My name?" She turned to look at the clear sky and inhaled the sleepily beautiful smell around them. "It was Marion. But have never used it - I had been but an infant when The Archadian Empire took over."

"My name was Fernan," he whispered, as if challenging. This was the first time he said something about his past without being asked. The first time he uttered his real name since his Academy days.

He saw her frown for a moment, as if she thought _'could it be?'_. Fernan was uncommon name for Nabradia, its origin, and for a Landisian it was almost unheard of. Almost.

Her face soon eased and she laughed.

"Pleasure to meet you, Fernan."

"Pleasure is all mine." He smiled crookedly.

_Of course._

In her mind, if the royal son of Landis was really alive, he should be leading a Resistance by now, trying to free his kingdom.

Not simply living in the heart of the The Archadian Empiren Empire.

It was not as if she could not connect the dots, she simply thought that the whole picture was impossible. And the impossibility broke a little piece of his mending heart.

He sighed and covered his eyes with the back of his hand. No use to think about such dark things now.

_Enjoy the moment, you-person-with-so-many-names-you-don't-even-know- how-to-think-of-yourself-as._

Inwardly he laughed bitterly. Outwardly he smiled. A few moments later he was laughing freely at something Irisa had said and all else was forgotten.

The rest of the morning passed peacefully.

* * *

Soon the Dalmascan Resistance arose yet again and he was called to accompany Zagrabaath and Drace to the battlefield (the imperial strategists knew that the three of them worked at best when together).

The Resistance managed to irritate the beast that was The Archadian Empire once again, since it always managed to create commotion, return the hope to the citizens and then escape like only a rat can.

Did they not understand that as long as the Dalmascans held hope for freedom there ever be bloodshed and war?

...For the first time, though, he was not truly angered that didn't catch anyone yet again.

He was hurrying to return to the capital. He had someone waiting for him for the first time since his grandmother died.

It was a strange, binding feeling that both irritated him a little (he had grown used to being alone after all), but the Judge figured he was mainly glad.

* * *

A few days after their return, he and Bergan were sent to patrol around the streets of Old Archades (it went on without saying that it was an unpleasant patrol for both of them - they could not stand each other).

Around twilight, Gabranth was suffering from bad premonition and was extremely nervous. But what could possibly go wrong tonight of all nights? Maybe he was just yearning to see Irisa again...

He wondered what she was doing - he hadn't seen her in weeks, since the day before his journey to Dalmasca.

_Irisa..._

Some instinct told him to go directly to _'The Oyster'_ and Bergan had to almost run after him.

"Gabranth, what _precisely_ is your problem?" Bergan whined from behind him and Gabranth heard his steps slow down.

He burst in the pub and the scene he witnessed stupefied him for a moment.

A couple of men, possibly nobles from the lowest distinct in the upper level were harassing Irisa and some other waitresses while their servants and the costumers were only watching.

_Only in Old Archades can someone attempt rape on public place..._

Some emotion, a dozen times stronger than hatred, arose in his chest and with unintelligent cry he blindly ran for the bastards. No swords, no weapons, he would apply sheer, brute force.

Most people were startled by the sight of Judge Magister in the pub and ran away, but the nobleman who had grabbed Irisa was stupid enough to take out his sword and point it at him in the last moment, ready for battle. By the time Gabranth realized he should stop, it was already too late - the inertia carried him straight into the blade.

As he was falling down, the only thing he could think of was:

_After all the great warriors I've battled, I had to fall by the hand of a bloody moron, without even fighting at all... Fates, you're jesting, right?_

He could see Irisa's eyes widden, possibly wondering why would a Judge Magister want to defend her, since it was precisely Judges who made the situation in Old Archades so chaotic and prone to criminality.

He could hear Bergan's voice. _The slow idiot came, finally_.

He gasped in pain as he, and his heavy armor, collided with the floor with a resounding clash.

"Gabranth!" And he knew no more.

* * *

For a couple of days, Gabranth hazily swam in and out of consciousness.

He remembered being taken to a room, he remembered the voice of some woman he presumed was a healer: _'...dangerous to move 'im... No... you can't... 'is wound will reopen... Do you want ...?'_.

He remembered vaguely the voices of some of the Judges, perhaps even Vayne at some time, and Irisa.

He remembered the smell of herbs and the tightness of bandages around his stomach.

He remembered the never-ending pain.

_Kill me now... end it...end this searing pain, now! I beg you!_

He remembered someone caressing his face.

_Someone has taken my helmet... Who is it? Antoine, is that you? Are we going home, finally?_

_Wait, I have to get her... I have to protect..._

Mostly he remembered his nightmares, his dreams, his delusions of Old Landis - the Landis his grandfather used to describe - the king's tales about the adventures and the lives of their forefathers, about magic and dragons and priestesses who willed Time and Mist. They all somehow mixed and twisted themselves into most wondrous and bizarre dreams.

_Landis... Je te manques...Mon coeur, mon âme..._

_No... Landis is gone, parished, destroyed, enslaved..._

"He is Judge Magister... Judge Magister Gabranth... The Archadian Empire's best General... The northern army... His comrades have murdered our kin... Traitor..."

_**Irisa...**_

He awoke, it was night.

Irisa was sitting in the corner of his bed, looking at him with saddened green eyes that pierced through him.

_What happened? Are you hurt?_

He now realized he wasn't in his house. The inn... _'The Oyster'_ was also an inn, he remembered.

"You're awake," she remarked dully.

"Did they hurt you?" he croaked his first words after a minute. She shook her head.

"You managed to come in time." He sighed in relief_._ "You saved me," she continued, as if confused. "Why, Gabranth?"

_Ah_.

"So you know."

"I saw Judge Bergan remove your helmet. Of course I know. I've tended to your wounds all week." All week? Had it really been that long?

"Why?" _Why did you care for me even when you knew?_

"Because you saved me." As simple as that, it seemed.

"Can you ever forgive me?"

"For what? For betraying Landis and serving the very ones who took everything from us? No. For betraying me? I don't know. I'm not sure in anything anymore." He moved his gaze to the window - it was a clear, starry night.

"Do not berate a guilty man," Gabranth said. "His guilt is either already eating him up and he is paying dearly the consequences of his actions, or he doesn't have a consciousness at all and you would simply be wasting your words, your time and your breath."

"And which one are you?" she whispered, but her voice was on the edge.

"I can tell you for sure I'm not the latter."

"While you slept... you muttered things in Landisian - things that only I understood. But I didn't, in the same time. You kept saying 'Antoine' and that you wanted to go outside of some palace. You even said 'Femme, run' once, I think." He still avoided her eyes. Outside a rainy cloud covered his view of the Moon. "_You_ are the lost prince, aren't you, Gabranth?"

He did not say anything, but a single tear rolled from his eye and into the pillow.

"Tell me why would you join the Empire's ranks? Why would you not lead us?" Irisa asked desperately. He tried to swallow to lump in his throat. _"T__ell me__!" _She sobbed.

"If I had led you, you'd have all died. You cannot even begin to imagine how great is the force of the The Archadian Empiren Empire. I could not do it to you. When Vayne found me, he said he would give me Landis back, after he became the Emperor. I didn't believe him for a second, of course, but I thought that if I became an insider... it would be easier to destroy the royal family and amidst of the chaos, all the little countries would unite and rise to war for their freedom. And then he offered me the chance to meet and take care of the queen. The queen herself, Irisa! My grandmother...

"And I did not realize it had been a carefully planned plot - my likeness to my twin, Basch von Rosenburg - you know of him, don't you? The plot that would lead to Dalmasca's fall. I let my bloodlust blind me and take me further than my heart would follow. I let the hurt in my soul deprive me of it. But the consciousness never slept, Irisa. Oh, of _this_ I assure you. What I've done - terrible, cruel things - it haunts me in my dreams, it breaks me. I live in a constant whirlpool of despair and self-hatred. And my only solace is that every step I have taken is to get me closer to my kingdom." The woman watched him, horrified, and even her tears were frozen in her eyes. "And yet, I cannot imagine the day when I would be able to forgive myself."

"Because it will never come," she said quietly after a moment.

They stood in a silence that consumed them for what felt like hours, until the Judge spoke: "You may hate me now, but I have to propose to you something, Irisa - otherwise I would not be able to talk, walk or eat and all of your cares will have been for naught."

She regarded him with an emotion he could not quite place: "Then propose what you will!"

"I care deeply about you," he began. "I cannot bear the thought that you will continue living in this dangerous place. Every moment in our friendship - even if it is dead for you now- whenever I bade you goodnight, I had been terrified by the thought that someone could hurt you and I would not have been there to protect you. Please, come with me to Rienna, live with me. I promise to take care of you and your brother and sisters until the day I die."

"You want me to live with you? To care of me and my family?" she repeated, her voice high.

"I do."

"But as what? What will you be to me?"

"A husband, if you'll have me." If the situation had been any different, he would have enjoyed the look on her face - the way she opened and closed her mouth like a fish for a moment.

"I hardly think this is an appropriate proposal," were her first words.

"Well, if I wasn't wounded, I'd have kneeled and asked you properly, but..."

"I didn't mean it like that! How can you ask me such thing? Now of all times - when I'm still so angry at you!"

"Look, Irisa, I cannot really take care of you in any other way -"

"But why _do_ you care so much, Noah?" Back to 'Noah' - a good sign. Maybe she would be even less furious in a while.

So he waited for a minute before he finally told her:

"Because since the moment Landis fell, no one expected me to return to the place I lived in, while I was away. Because since the moment my brother gave his loyalty to Dalmasca, I had no one to turn to, whenever I wanted to share something. Because since the day I was separated from Basch, I had stopped believing. And you made me believe again, Irisa. I _care_ about you, because you're the piece of Landis I had so desperately prayed for nearly all my life. I care about you, because you... you heal me." _You heal me. As simple as that._

For a moment he saw some weakness flicker in her eyes, some gentleness.

She leaned to him and kissed his forehead. She did not say anything, and he knew she was still angry.

But...

Her lips stayed on him, as another tear fell.

Outside it was raining, but he knew that the cloud would eventually pass and he would see his Moon once more, and it would bathe him in its gentle and ever forgiving light.

* * *

The woman looked at the mirror and painted her lips scarlet.

"You didn't have to sell yourself to that Judge, you know that, Marion," one of her sisters said from behind her.

"I didn't sell myself. He did not buy me. He offered me gentleness and care, and your freedom. You would have done the same, had you been in my shoes, sister." One sister remained silent, but the other persisted.

"Yet he also bought you pretty dresses and make-up, and a status in the Empire - _'Oh, look, it's the Judge Magister's wife! Isn't she pretty today, in that dress? Isn't she glorious, walking so quietly by his side?'_. You're even more enslaved than the rest of us. How can you be any different than the whores who sell their bodies in the lower distincts -?" _Slap._

"How can you be so ungrateful? He saved both of you and our brother from slavery and destitution!"

"Oh, yes, we should be _very_ grateful! We should be grateful for our very existence to The Archadian Empire! After all, we would have not existed if its soldiers had not occupied our country!"

"Oh please, _do_ shut up! You know nothing of Noah!" Marion cried. A minute's silence.

"You _love_ him," her brother accused, calmly. The woman looked down, ashamed.

"Alas, I do." She shed bitter tears over her involuntary treason.

How could love not come in a situation similar to theirs? With time, how could she not grow to love him, and he - worship her in return? Love is always simple and kind, forgiving and healing. In Gabranth and Irisa's situation, it was no different.

After she came back to her senses, she realized that there was no one else in the room, anymore.

* * *

"What about Odin?" asked her husband, as she sat on his lap.

"You want to name our child after a Landisian ship?" She laughed.

"Why not? I find it fitting."

"Alright... but if it is a girl, let's call it Marie, like my mother and your grandmother."

"You know, before she married the king, since she was from Nabradia, she had been Maria. But after that, everyone called her with the Landisian version of her name." It felt strange for him to share such meaningless piece of information, after so many years of silence.

He felt accepted, belonging. With each day passed with her, he felt less like Noah or Gabranth or _Judge_.

* * *

Gabranth woke up to the smell of iron. He took a deep breath, trying to remember what could that mean.

Mid-sigh, his heart thudded.

It was blood.

He moved away the covers and it was like someone had gripped his heart and _squeezed_ very hard. Blood was everywhere, wet and horrifying. And Irisa was curled up in the middle of it, like a kitten.

"Wake up, you're bleeding," he told her.

"What?" she mumbled, still asleep.

"_Irisa,_" he urged. She opened her eyes to this nightmare.

"No..." she repeated and he took her in his arms. "No, no, no, no, no... God, why? _Noah_!"

It was their third lost child.

Gabranth viewed it as a bloody retribution from the Gods, for everything he had ever done. This retribution did not humble him. It made him even more bitter, more viscous.

But Irisa... she kept persisting, kept wanting to have a baby - she had said she felt empty without one. She had said that she needed to have something that was a mix between the two of them, _theirs_, every time he went to a battle.

She had been optimistic that this one would live.

* * *

Around the time after the first abortion, he developed the habit to visit Basch, to spite him - to tell the Dalmacan knight about his every fallen comrade.

"Why do you do this, Noah?" his brother asked him once, ever so calm. Gabranth growled. Why was Basch always the collected one, and he the one who was always enraged, always the lesser?

After a moment, he said:

"You became nothing but a dog of Dalmasca, just like Dalmasca was a dog of The Archadian Empire for aiding it in the raid. Tell me now, _Captain Basch von Rosenburg_, how many did you kill in wars that were not yours to lead?" Basch looked down and did not reply for a long time.

"I did it in order to protect someone precious to me. I simply did not wish for the princess to have the same, or worse fate as ours." The Judge desired nothing more than to hit him, but he did not - except the scar, he could not bring himself to give Basch any other wounds.

"Who could have a worse fate than us?" he whispered in anguish. If his brother now noticed the dark circles under his eyes, he did not comment. "We who have fallen so low. Me - to the beast, and you -to its pet." In a mad moment Gabranth wished to forget the circumstances and explain all that made him such a tyrant.

But he did not, could not.

Because even if what happened in his life was nothing but a sad tragedy, it was his own character that led him to become so weak, so corrupted by the _evil_. "Evil" indeed, though not like the villainy of the witches and the dragons from the fairy-tales, but a darker evil that was only ever known to the real world - because in its own twisted way, it was reasoned. No one crumbled under the forces of "_evil__"_ if something had not crackled them first.

A month after this, his brother escaped from the Fortress that had been their Academy, the last place where they had been together and happy (and what a sick thought- as if he made his prison there on purpose, thinking that they would not get separated again).

Gabranth wondered: could he have ever thought that after those two years, it would be Basch who walked with head held up high, and he himself who walked - a broken man?


	6. Two Paths Merged

**Chapter ****6****: ****Two Paths Merged**

"People of Rabanastre!" Vayne called, his voice carrying the notes of a king. "Is it with hatred you look upon your council? With hatred you look upon the Empire?" _Are you foolish enough to openly oppose us?_

He was met with the negative outbursts of the Dalmascans. "There was little point in asking. I harbor no idle hopes of frustrating that hatred. Nor shall I ask your fealty. That is the due of your fallen king and rightly so. King Raminas loved his people. Strove to bring you peace. His was a rule worthy of your devotion." One of the figures in the mob trembled.

"The nerve of him…" she said through gritted teeth.

"Amalia, hush!"

"…I would ask only that you do your king honour." _Enough!_

"I shall cut his heart out with a dinner knife, the Archadian swine! How dare he even _speak_ of king Raminas?"

"_Amalia!_" Vossler pleaded.

"… the war's bitter end..." Bitter it was indeed. "… it's shadow looms over all, stifling that infant peace. A fall only you may cast off!" The mob was slowly becoming more and more attending to his speech, moved by his words like an infant swept by shining armors and big words.

"Enough! I cannot watch any more! Let us go!" The once-knight nodded and they departed from the gathering.

She could not look at the Imperator's son anymore, could not look at her nation.

* * *

Two years she had walked among the people of Dalmasca and not even a single person acknowledged her as princess Ashe.

Two years she built the Resistance, along with Vossler and her success was almost non-existent. They only managed to annoy the Archadian Empire, as a fly would annoy a lion.

Some of the

* * *

to let an Archadian rule them, some –like the orphans and generally the poor people – suffered the consequences of the occupation more than others.

Many died from hunger or were forced to steal and it was for them Amalia's heart wept.

There were three attempts on revolution in the last year but none of them had been successful.

The Archadian Empire stopped seeing them as a real threat, but more like some inconvenient joke. This was why no one was arrested when the Dalmascans expressed their detestation towards Vayne Solidor.

Amalia heard applause behind her and sighed.

She felt Vossler's warm hand on her shoulder and looked gratefully at him.

* * *

Ever since Amalia came into existance two years ago, the person behind her name had shifted and changed similar to a river that altered its flow.

Death and war had tainted. How could they not? They had made her a true leader.

_And__ lead them I will,_ she thought vigorously, tapping her sword on the ground and listening to its battle call. Tonight, she would make the difference. The arrival of the Imperor's son was giving them the perfect oppurtunity to strike the Empire where it hurt - it would lose both the heir to the throne and the highest in command in the military sphere.

* * *

"It was a trap all along!" Vossler shouted as he fended off the soldiers. The _Ifrit_ 's shadow was hovering above them, like a giant predator with dangeros claws. The snakes in it would come for them in mere minutes.

The battle was over before it had the chance to truly begin. It had all simply been the serial Archadian carefully plotted machination.

Another two fell by her hands but she was no fool to think they stood a chance.

"_Retreat!_ _RETREAT!_" But for whose ears she shouted? And even if they heard her, most of them were cornered because they were so much outnumbered.

She watched in horror as her comrades fell one by one, or were caught by the imperial knights (theirs was a fate worse than death).

"Amalia!" her second-in-command gasped as he ran towards her. "We'll go through this corridor... But promise me that if the situation goes from bad to the worst, you'll run... It is of our utmost importance that you live..."

"I could never..." She would never abandon them.

"Otherwise I would get distracted, in my worry about you." Vossler straightened a wrinkle in her collar, and she _almost_ flinched away by such intimate closeness (his devotion to her painfully reminded her of another's).

"Azelas..." He nodded at her, encouragingly. "RETREAT!" she shouted again, still holding his gaze.

The warriors of the Resistance disengaged from their battles and followed their two leaders. When they were all inside the hallway, they managed to block the entrance so that the enemy would not be able to follow.

As they ran towards the Garamsythe Waterway, the leader of the Resistance angrily pondered on Dalmasca's luck in battles. Why was it that The Archadian Empire always managed to make fools out of them?

"Here they are!" Someone shouted.

"How did they manage to get down here? We sealed the exit!"

"The second gate!" _Of course. In our hurry we forgot to seal it too._

"We have to separate in order to have a chance to get out of here alive! We'll meet in the headquarters!" Vossler ordered. Ashe nodded and for a moment she wondered who was the true leader of the Resistance - her or him? Did he not always gently push her to the right way? Or perhaps it was simply what friends did?

Never mind that now.

She ran towards the sewers, and heard the others scatter around like shooting stars. The Archadians, soon enough, followed behind.

* * *

"Now we have her!" one of them proclaimed, triumphant - only to be cut down by her sword.

"Who would be next?" she dared them. The enemies were unfazed.

"Close ranks. Bring her down!" She was cornered, with no chance to escape.

_Will this be my end?_

"Jump down!" someone shouted. She looked down to see a young boy. What was he doing there? "Hurry!" She jumped.

_Will he catch me?_

He did.

The soldiers shouted something from up there, but she did not hear what. Amalia now noticed that the boy was not alone - there was a young man and a viera -_ a viera!_ - who were looking at them.

"Our ranks grow by the hour." The elegant creature noted dryly.

"And our troubles with them."

Never-the-less, they helped her defeat the soldiers.

"I'm Vaan," the boy who had saved her said. "And this is Balthier and -" He turned to his companions and saw they were walking away. "Hey!" He turned back to her. "What's your name?" She was strangely fascinated by the way such a young man had saved her, defeated her enemies and then spoke to her with an almost child-like easiness.

"Amalia," she said.

"Amalia, huh? Nice to meet you." She was not in the mood for pleasantries.

"There were others with me..."

* * *

His shoulders ached (his solace was that they would release him and return him to his dungeon after Gabranth went away - his brother would not have him hanging inside the damned cage forever - even he was merciful enough for that). His scars burned (they would be treated by a healer soon- they could not have the "king slayer", one of the few reasons for Ondore's silence, die from a simple infection). His heart fluttered with a bad premonition.

The silence of the most guarded part of the Nalbina prison was interrupted by the sound of the cage lifting.

Then the usual greetings came but he was not in the mood to humor the Judge Magister. When he spoke, he was startled by the raw and only half-human sound of his voice.

_Gabranth is growing terribly uncreative these days. I wonder why? It seems as though he comes for no reason at all._

Just at that moment, his brother spoke:

"We've caught a leader of the insurgence. She is being brought from Rabanastre. The woman Amalia." He felt as though someone had dropped his heart from the top of the _Bahamut_. "I wonder who could that be?" He looked down, trying to act as calmly as possible. _You would not be as distressed as you look because of some woman you claim you don't know._ He guessed that Gabranth was already suspicious (perhaps this was precisely why he came).

They exchanged some other pleasantries then, but he did not really pay attention to what he was hearing or saying.

Finally his brother left him be.

The prisoner only wished that the guards who were to return him to the dark dungeon would hurry. He could not bear to be so openly exposed.

He heard footsteps he knew were not his jailer's, as he waited.

"Who's there?" It hurt him to try to lift his head, so he simply lifted his gaze.

He saw two young men, both strangely familiar and a viera woman.

"This the place?"

"The Mist is flowing through this room. It must be going somewhere." He saw that they tried to ignore them. But he himself did not strive to be ignored.

"You! You're no Imperials. Please, you must get me out –"

"It's against my policy to speak to the dead. Especially when they happen to be king slayers." the older of the two men said, without looking at him.

"I did not kill him."

"Is that so? Glad to hear it," the man said, still looking more focused on his search for an exit than Basch's words. The prisoner then turned to the other one, desperate.

"Please, get me out. For the sake of Dalmasca!"

He did not quite expect the raw rage those words would ignite in the one they were addressed to. The young man – was it only just a boy? – ran to his cage and slammed it multiple times.

"Dalmasca? What do you care about Dalmasca?" he seethed. "_Everything_ that's happened is because of you! Everyone that's died. Every single one! Even my brother-" The boy's voice broke yet he continued. "You killed my brother!"

The older man stopped him: "Quiet! The guards will hear!" They already could hear their coming.

"_I'm dropping it!"_ the viera said and before anyone could say something, she kicked the lever that was responsible for the lifting and the descending of the prisoner's cage.

As he fell, Basch heard the other three jump on the falling cell.

* * *

The once knight of Dalmasca marveled at his hands – for the first time in years without chains. Before he could do more than that, the boy - who he later learned was called Vaan - launched himself at him. The older one - who seemed to be the leader of the party - stopped him and explained that this was a dangerous territory and they could use another sword arm. Basch swore that he would help them throughout this journey. Thus, he found himself joining Balthier's party.

When after half an hour they stopped for a break after hours of walking amongst the endless corridors of the Nalbina Fortress (Basch had not walked so long in years and Vaan also growing tired), Basch was provoked by Vaan - who he learned was the brother of the man who had confirmed his supposed treachery - to tell his three companions about what truly happened during the day in which the king was murdered.

At long last they escaped the gods forsaken fortress (though not without _some _trouble on the way), and he saw the light of the sun, and felt the hotness of the Giza desert, Basch felt a lump in his throat.

"To think Dalmascan air could taste so sweet," he said in a rough voice.

It tasted like Ashe.

* * *

They headed towards the once royal city of Rabanastre, and after a few hours of endless, tiring walk, they arrived. The once knight bid goodbye to his saviors. The Resistance was bound to find him soon, but – _gods help him_ – he was going to look for them too. He would find a way to get to the princess and save her from the claws of the Empire (he would not lose her _too_, not to _them_).

When he first stumbled upon a familiar face, after hours of wandering around the city, Basch was surprised.

"Dalan," Basch said with a relieved sigh as he looked at the old man. He had been searching for him ever since he set foot on Rabanastre. "I knew I'd find you sooner or later. I'm glad that you've managed to get away from the Imperials. I had originally thought that they've murdered everyone who had lived in the palace." _And especially the First Councilor of the king._

"Who are you?" The question shocked him and for the first time he wondered if his appearance had changed so much.

"Do you not recognize me? It is I, Captain Basch von Rosenburg." Dalan narrowed his eyes.

"How can you be alive?"

"I was kept prisoner in Nalbina for two years by the Empire," the once knight told him, unfazed by the anger behind the old man's words.

"I thought the Empire rewarded their heroes, not punish them," the old man said through gritted teeth.

"They do, but threats they keep in secret. Especially if said threats were the sole living witnesses of what truly happened on the day Dalmasca fell."

"And _what_ happened, exactly?" Dalan rised an eyebrow.

"I was framed by my brother, Judge Gabranth. I am sure that the king had told you of his existence." No more questions were asked about this after that, as the piece of information seemed enough for the once royal councilor. Basch then told him about the manner of his escape from the fortress (Dalan seemed overjoyed by the fact that Vaan was safe and well). "…And so, I search for the Resistance, so that they can help me free the princess."

"You were always so devoted to her, even when she was not yours to take care of." Dalan sighed and there was something in the look in his eyes as he said it that made Basch's heart uncomfortable. "I'll tell you about the Resistance's whereabouts and I'll send them a letter with the truth about your charge so that they won't attack you on sight. But you_know_ they will give you a hard time even with it to your defense, right, Basch? They won't easily trust you again, even if they were once your beloved comrades and subordinates." Basch nodded slowly.

"… Dalan, I have to ask you something… is – is Vossler there? Is he alive?" His heart clenched at the possibility that he might not be.

"He is. He is the princess' second-in-command." Basch sighed in relief. He knew it wasn't going to be easy and that he would have to be patient with the revolutionaries and especially his once best friend.

"I'll be going then." The man nodded at Dalan.

"You really might want to look more… recognizable, before you go to meet them, Basch." The once knight felt a smile on his face (it had been so long since he last smiled). _That's the old Dalan. Always caring about the presentation._

He turned to leave.

"Oh, and Basch?"

"Yes?"

"Now that I know you are innocent, I'm really glad you're alive and well."

* * *

Basch decided to listen to Dalan's advice and went to a barber. When he felt the weight of his overgrown hair and beard fall, it was like little by little the layers of the memories of Nalbina had began to shred. It was too early for him to forget, to stop being haunted, of course… but he knew he would be able to continue.

He would bear any shame he encountered during the future, he would bear it dutifully, without complaint. It was all indirectly his fault after all – if he had persisted, so many years ago, to stay in Nabradia with Noah, or if… if he had done anything differently. Anything at all –

But now was not the time to focus on guilt or shame. He would save the princess and protect her, always. He would do everything for the sake of Dalmasca's freedom. It would be his atonement. Because of this, he _would_ be able walk with head held up high.

When he looked himself in the mirror – his groomed appearance, his new clothes – he noticed, not without some appreciation of the irony, that he looked much younger than the last time he saw himself in a mirror, two years ago.

Basch could easily pretend Nalbina never happened. He could easily stop thinking about it. It would be the dreams again –alas – he would not be able to control.

Basch paid the barber, exited his shop and quietly strode through the doors of the Resistance's headquarters. He was greeted by the familiar faces of his once comrades and he could tell that they had just been discussing Dalan's letter.

"Now there is the Basch that I remember," Vossler greeted.

"Then will you fight again by my side?" Basch asked, straight to the point. Vossler was about to reply when one of his men interrupted.

"His word alone convinces me of nothing!" It was Lieutenant Laranja - they had fought in Nalbina together.

"I'd take his word over that of a mouthpiece Marquis." He did not know who the one who spoke was, perhaps a citizen of Rabanastre who joined them later.

"Then you name Reks liar with him," Marcello di Gasparo replied.

"My brother was no liar!" Vaan shouted, letting his presence known. Basch noticed that the boy was carrying his old sword. He would recognize this hilt in a sea of weapons. He had defeated the masters of every blade in this sea with it.

"Just the opposite. Reks was the witness they needed. They had to make it appear as if I'd killed the king – Reks bears no blame." He looked at Vaan straight in the eyes. "The Fates have willed it." He saw in them that the boy was starting to believe him.

"So this is Reks' brother." Vossler ripped the sword away from the boy's hands. "Your words may convince a child such as this, but they weigh too lightly on the scales for my taste. Our paths will remain separate."

"Do you not think Amalia worth saving?" Basch questioned -his tone challenging, judging. Vossler's breath hitched and he looked away and began pacing. Had she become dear to this man, during those two years?

"I hold men's lives in my hands. I must see foes in every shadow. The night we moved against Vayne, he knew. I will not chance such a disadvantage again. I must treat you as I would Ondore – as I would treat any abettor of the Archadian Empire."

"Then what will you do? Hold me here in chains?" He stared at him.

Basch did not look away.

* * *

Vossler had always been able to read the faces of the people, like books. He was able to tell when someone's will would not be shaken in any circumstances. He sighed and threw the sword to its rightful owner. Basch grasped it._ Don't screw up. Bring her back._

"Some things never change, do they?"

"Listen to me, Basch. Your cage may have no bars, but it is a cage. The eyes of the Resistance watch, unblinking."

"Let them watch. I know something of cages."

As Basch stalked away, Vossler marveled at how they were still able to say so much in so little words. It came with the comradeship, with counting on each other during battles, he supposed.

* * *

When Vaan and Basch finally found Balthier, they saw him arguing with a distressed bangaa.

The sky pirate himself was sitting calmly as though they were discussing the weather, his viera partner – on the opposite side of the table.

Basch could not tear his gaze away from the man – there was something unbelievably familiar in those features and it was almost maddening –like he could almost remember where he had seen this face, like a name on the tip of his tongue…

"It was Ba'gamnan. He was in Nalbina." Fran's voice caught his attention back. Basch paid more attention to the conversation.

"If anything were to happen to that sweet child – why, I've her parents' memory to consider!" the bangaa exclaimed. "You're going to go to her aid and that's that! It's what sky pirates do, isn't it?"

"I don't respond _well_ to orders." That arrogant, spoilt tone left no room for confusion or mistakes because Basch had heard it so many times in the past.

Just like that, he remembered.

The one and only Ffamran mid Bunansa! But how could he… a _sky pirate _of all things! Last time he heard about him, the man had been a Judge in the Empire!

If someone had told Basch that all the fish in the sea had grown wings and flown away to the sunset, he would have been less surprised.

"You do know that the Imperial fleet is massing in Bhujerba?" Balthier continued.

"Fine, then I'll go!" Vaan volunteered. "You at least have an airship, don't you? Just get me there and I'll find Penelo myself." If they were going to Bhujerba, Basch would go there with them – Ondore was there and he was sure that his godfather would know where the princess was and how to get to her.

"I'll join you," he told them. "I have some business there as well." Balthier regarded him.

"An audience with the Marquis, by chance?" _Always the clever one_, Basch thought with fondness. Did the sky pirate recognize him? Not as Basch von Rosenburg, but as Antoine of Landis, his childhood friend?

"Balthier," Vaan pleaded. "Just take us – and this is yours." The boy held out a jewel that seemed to intrigue the pair.

"The Gods are toying with us," Fran said in an irritated manner. Her partner simply growled.

"Make yourselves ready. We'll leave soon."

"Right!"

_He would have let us come with him anyway, after a few minutes. He's far too curious to let this opportunity pass him._

Basch allowed himself a small smile and followed the rest of the party.

* * *

'_Wow'_ was the only thing Vaan could say and Basch had to agree with him.

He had heard of the Strahl during his years in knighthood, but had never seen it with his own eyes. It was a beautiful ship, indeed.

_You've done well in life, Ffamran. I shouldn't have expected any lesser from you. You were always a free bird even during our childhood, weren't you? Nothing could stop you, or chain you. Not your father and certainly not the Archadian Empire._

Once inside the ship, Basch asked about Bhujerba's status.

"Oh, she's free as can be, for now," Balthier answered. "The Empire took notice when they announced the princess's unfortunate suicide and your untimely execution."

"If it becomes known that I'm alive, the Marquis will lose their favor." _I know he is not truly on their side – he can't be, otherwise they would not have held me prisoner in order to gain his silence. If he knows that I'm alive, The Archadian Empire will view him as a threat and act accordingly._

"I try to steer clear of such things," the sky pirate told him, as he readied the airship for its flight. "Right. It's time to fly," Balthier said. "And no wagging tongues or you're like to bite them off."

They didn't say almost anything during their flight to Bhujerba, bar a few occasional jokes from Balthier, a remark or two from Fran and a couple of questions from Vaan.

Basch kept quiet (except when the boy's questions were directed to him).

* * *

He had always thought that the flying island was a beautiful place. There was something in this piece of land full of forests and small rivers that flowed to the air and fell like the waterfalls of the edge of the world, and the city of Bhujeba hidden amongst the arms of nature.

He remembered that this place had always been Ffamran's soft spot. When they had been children, the younger boy would tell the twins about the stories his father had told him with such interest and passion, that it would be obvious how much he wanted to visit it one day.

_Always looking forward to the sky. '… And I believe that the sky is not even close to the limit' you said once, before we hid you in that airship so we could take you to Landis for the summer._

"Brings back memories." He heard Balthier sigh quietly, as they came out of the _Strahl_.

"It does, indeed," the man agreed and in that moment he knew this was the sky pirate's subtle way of telling him he knew.

They would catch on later, when they had the time.

* * *

'Later' came after adventures through the mines, unknowingly traveling with the Emperor's littlest son, Larsa - or 'Lamont' as he preferred to be called among the pirates, seeing Basch's godfather from a distance again, occasional talks concerning nethecite, and close call with the Imperials.

Their plan was simple – they would spread the news that Basch was alive, so they would draw the attention of one of those organizations that would lead them to the Marquis. Vaan was the one that volunteered to spread the news.

When the boy left (and they supposed that his quest would take him a few hours), Fran said that she would take a walk around the sky city and Balthier and Basch found themselves alone. The two old friends sat on a bench.

They felt awkward, to say the least – but it was expected. What does one say in a situation like theirs? _'The weather is nice, isn't it?'_

"Finally," the sky pirate said at last, and regarded him with eyes full of emotion. "You've grown up, Antoine." He said in a thick, raspy voice. "It feels bizarre to look at you and remember the haughty prince who could and would dare even the gods themselves."

"And the stiff little friend who is little no more?" They laughed in a companionable way.

"Tell me about the life of the infamous Captain Basch von Rosenburg," Balthier inquired. "Tell me of the story behind the political lies. How did you escape the raid all those years ago?"

Basch gathered his thoughts for a moment and slowly began:

"That night when the palace fell, even the servants abandoned us. The king was murdered almost instantly. General de Blanc, you remember him? He sold to the Archadian Empire the whereabouts of most of the tunnels that were to lead us out of the palace." The prince of the fallen country closed his eyes and in his mind he was back to that nightmarish night… "In the end it was Instructor Tumus who helped us. While we ran to the last secret passage, Mother and Father were caught… Tumus stayed behind to slow the imperials down.

"My grandmother, Fernan and I made it out safely. Then we hid in an old, abandoned house in Guillemot for two months. Marquis Ondore found us by chance and offered to help me and my brother. We went to Nabradia, to the Royal Academy for Knights where we stayed together for seven years." His voice grew darker. "Then princess Ashelia became engaged to Lord Rasler and twenty percent of the knights and knights-in-training were sent to Dalmasca, as a part of the engagement contract.

"I was one of them, of course. A few years later, I became the princess' knight." Basch smiled ruefully. "Soon after I received a letter from Nabradia, informing me that Fernan had gone missing in action during the Rozarrian Conflict. I went to Nabudis for the funeral, not knowing that during this time he had become Judge Gabranth."

Balthier sighed.

"When my father made me a Judge, I got reacquainted with him. He struck me as a very private person, always keeping to himself. He never even admitted that he was Fernan of Landis, but he did seek my company a few times. By the time I met Francesca Nefertari, my Fran, and decided to run away from that wasteland called Empire, I saw two other judges trying to open him up." Basch sighed, relieved. At least Noah was not as lonely as he had seemed.

He pondered on the other aspects of his childhood friends' words then.

"And Fran?"

"What about her?" the sky pirate asked defensively.

"Is she your lover, per chance?"

Balthier smiled.

"She's my most trusted friend and my fiercest rival. I don't think I'd ever really figure her out. That woman… is a mystery to me." He shook his head. "But if she was my lover, I wouldn't have loved her as much." Basch nodded in understanding. "And you, my friend? Do you have some pretty girl out there?"

"Aye. But I need to prove my innocence to her at first."

"Of course." Balthier looked at him slyly then. "So she's a Dalmascan?"

"Yes."

"From Rabanastre, perchance?" The once knight nodded warily. "A part of the royal court?"

"Nothing can ever escape you, can it?" Basch said. His friend grinned.

"Alas, it cannot."

"It's your turn to tell me of your sky pirate's ways, Ffamran," he said after a while. The Archadian settled more comfortably. _He has always loved being the center of the attention, the punk._

"Most of the time we look for treasures. Raid tombs, steal from Imperial ships. We sometimes come here, to Bhujerba, to the only free land in all Ivalice and celebrate our freedom for days. Most of those days I honestly don't remember. How did the song go? Ah, yes : 'Yo-ho, yo-ho, a sky pirate's life for me'." He didn't precisely sing it, it was more of a recital and Basch couldn't help but smile.

"You know, I'd never have pictured you as a pirate of the sky, what with your fear of heights. Maybe an engineer, seeing as you always loved speaking about airships and aerodynamics to make yourself seem older..." Balthier waved his hand dismissingly.

"'Tis all in the past. The sky is my world now. And you, Basch? I'd never have thought a Landisian could speak the common language so well! You can even pronounce the 'h'!"

The older man grunted.

"Oh, come on – you can't take a tease. Mark my words, this seriousness will be the end of you one day. Cheer up a little. You're not even thirty and you've already got a few wrinkles forming."

"How can I be 'cheerful' when her highness is in the hands of the Archadian Empire? If they find out who she really is –"

"Your faith disarms me, Basch. Stop thinking about the worst outcome. I thought you were more optimistic than that. You won't help her by worrying. You'll help her by saving her." Basch sighed.

"The gods seem to love playing with me and my loved ones. I've learned to be more wary."

"Oh, you and your gods." Balthier frowned. "_You_ are the only one who can pave your path. Stop thinking that it is all predestined or that you have no saying in the making of your own fate."

Just then Fran returned, informing them that the Resistance had caught Vaan.

"Well, let's go now, shall we? We don't want to keep the boy and the Resistance waiting." Her partner stood up.

"One more thing, _Balthier_." The sky pirate titled his head towards him, but did not turn. "Thank you. For saving me in Nalbina." The younger man nodded. "Did you know even then?"

"… Yes."

"Would you have let me there, if it had not been for Fran?" He heard the sky pirate smile.

"Nah. I was just giving you a hard time, you know – for all those years I thought you were dead."

They followed Fran to the Bhujerba's Resistance's headquarters.

* * *

"The Empire's hounds grow passing bold indeed," they heard the man who was presumably the leader say to Vaan.

"A shame if they learned the Marquis trafficked with the likes of you," Balthier interrupted, letting their presence known. "Agents masquerading as guides. A hideout at the back of a tavern. Not exactly earning high marks for originality, are we?"

"Now you've done it!" one of the men, a bangaa, said as he headed threateningly towards them.

"Wait!" the leader said, as he saw the once knight walking towards him. "So Basch von Rosenburg does yet live. I knew there must be more to it, but to find _you_ at the end of this tale…" He laughed. "Ah, to see the Marquis' face when he learns of it…"

"I should like nothing more," Basch replied. "I would meet him, and see for myself."

"How say you, my lord?" the leader asked, turning towards a rev creature.

"There is little to be said. I shall arrange a meeting with the Marquis. We shall expect you at the estate," he said with a thick Bhujerban accent.

One of Ondore's attendants told them the directions to his manor and the party departed yet again.

"Sir Basch von Rosenburg," the Marquis greeted formally, from behind his desk. "It was not so long ago that I announced you had been executed."

"And it is the only reason I draw breath," Basch told him. Ondore leaned closer.

"Vayne had had me cornered well. I am glad that you're well and that you've managed to escape from wherever they had you imprisoned. But why risk your newfound freedom for an audience with me?"

"The leader of the Dalmascan Resistance, _Amalia_, has fallen into Imperial hands." The marquis' eyes widened. "I would rescue her, but I need your help."

"You understand I have my position to consider." So he wouldn't be able to help openly. That much had been certain from the beginning.

Vaan then asked about his friend, but the Marquis told him that Lord Larsa's cortege had rejoined the imperial detachment.

"Captain Rosenburg," the Marquis turned to his godson again. "Surely the exigencies of position are not lost to you. Why indeed, you should find the enemy's chains… an easy burden to bear." So this was the plan. The only way to get them closer to Ashe was if…

"Wait!" Balthier shouted, outstretching an arm towards his friend, as if to stop him.

"Sorry," Basch said quietly, drawing out his sword. "Can't be helped."

"Summon the guards!" Ondore yelled. Soldiers then flooded the room. "They are to be taken to Judge Ghis."

* * *

With each step towards the Leviathan, the ship that would send them to Rabanastre, Basch's heart beat a beat faster than the step before. Outwardly he did not flinch. He did not look scared. Why should he? He was only getting closer to her highness.

_Ba-thump._

He remembered things about her then. Small things he only had noticed while he had been in her presence. Like how, when she was fourteen, she had loved to wear ribbons and how long she had chased a chocobo before the royal painter called her (in the end, the painting that was hanged in the king's drawing room was of Ashe who was hugging the bird).

_Ba-thump. Ba-thump._

Like how he had felt her lean in to kiss him once spring afternoon three years ago, while he had been half-asleep beneath the shadows of an ashe-tree.

_Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump._

Like how his heart had swelled whenever she danced through the library, carrying her newest book, or how her eyes would shine whenever she told this seen-it-all, weary warrior fictional stories of pirates and thieves and adventures, and how this soothed his heart and brought him peace.

_Ba-thump. Ba-thump. -thump._

There she was now; he recognized her back and her posture.

His heart went silent.


	7. The Cricket

**Chapter ****7****: ****The Cricket**

If they handled her a little too roughly, she did not complain – she knew a revolutionary's fate could have been a thousand times worse.

The leader of the Resistance was confident she wouldn't break under any torture. The scars that she had acquired during those two years were more than enough a reminder of what she had gone through.

She did not need saving. She was sure she would be able to escape.

The woman was already considering a plan, when she heard the metal sound of an imperial's footsteps.

"You will come with me," he told her and grabbed her by the arm. She hissed in the pain.

Ashe was led to the commanding center of the airship, where Judge Ghis was awaiting her.

She imagined how he smiled beneath his helmet, a predator that had just caught its pry. "You do realize that your identity was not so hard to figure out, right, Ashelia Dalmasca?"

"You…" she hissed, "…know _nothing_." The Judge laughed.

"Oh, but I do know. Let us not forget that I've seen the palace in Rabanastre, with all the pictures of its princess… But the question is not who you are, _Your Highness_… it's where you used to hide…" She folded her arms.

"I'll tell you nothing! You can torture me all you want, but you'll never know the whereabouts of the Resistance!" The Judge turned his back to her.

"But _whoever_ said anything about torturing _you_, Highness?"

"The prisoners, my lord," a soldier interrupted.

Ashe heard the sound of ringing chains and turned.

His open face ripped at her heart and opened a door of her soul she had forcefully closed. For a fraction of a second, as her breath hitched, the air was sweet again, and not bitter. For a fraction of a second, her heart floated in joy and all was right in the world once more.

And then she remembered – she remembered the last few years and all that stood between herself and him now, and it shook her to the very core, more roughly than all the soldiers of the Empire, and all her doors slapped shut with loud clashes; she remembered Ondore, as he announced _his_ betrayal, all the anger and the ever-constant grief and she felt like a wounded beast again.

She hated them all, all the more for doing this to her. She hated her own heart, berated it harshly for its treason.

* * *

The first thing he noticed, no matter how ridiculous it was in the face of this serious situation, was her attire.

_For Gods' sake - what is she wearing?_ He wondered inwardly, scandalized.

The second were her features – no longer a child's, but a woman's now. No longer a princess, but an uncrowned queen.

"Majesty."

It just slipped.

In a few quick steps she was in front of him. The place where she slapped him burned.

"After what you've done! How dare you!"

He would take her every word, no matter the poison she had thrown it to him with. He would welcome it gladly, in an embrace. He would stand unmoving. Even if he wanted to kiss her right then and there, and sweep her off her feet, he would be as still as a mountain before the onslaught of the raging wind.

As if remembering it herself, she then added: "You're supposed to be _dead_."

* * *

But was her mind at fault, really, for forgetting his apparent demise? Every morning she killed him a dozen times, and every night she brought him back to life and begged him to carry her away - not minding his wronging and his deeds. He was _Basch_, good or evil, and that was all that had mattered to her when all resistances slept.

"Come, come now. Have you forgotten your manners?" Judge Ghis said in a loud voice. Gods, he was like an irritating fly that did not know how to mind its own business. "This is hardly the courtesy due the late Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca."

"Princess?" the boy- Vaan- exclaimed. Ashe noticed him only now, along with the rest of his companions.

_What are they doing here?_

Judge Ghis began saying something again, but he did not matter, he was not worth looking at –

_He_ was holding her gaze and his eyes were painfully like the eyes of the man who had not yet thought of betraying her.

...But there was no time for that now. There never was, nay, not ever.

"… she bears no proof of her former station. No different than any mean member of the insurgence."

"The _Resistance_," she corrected him in a voice like steel.

"His Excellency, the Consul, asks the Ministry of the disthroned royal family in restoring peace to Dalmasca. Those who foster instability and unrest, who claim royal blood without proof… they shall meet their fate at the gallows," the Judge said. "There are _no_ exceptions." Not even for the one true heir to the throne.

Her temper boiled.

"I will not play puppet to Vayne!" she hissed.

A brief silence followed.

"…King Raminas entrusted me with a task," her once most esteemed knight said. She turned to look at him, and saw that his head was half-bowed. "Should the time come, he bade me to give you something of great importance." _My father trusted you a thousand times more than you deserve, you damned traitor. _"It is your birthright: the Dusk Shard." He dared to look her in the eye. "It will warrant the quality of her blood." As the man turned towards the Judge, his tone grew harder. "Only I know where to find it."

"Wait!" Ashe stopped him. "You took my father's life. Why spare mine now?"

* * *

"You would have me live in shame!" she exclaimed.

_Shame… I lived two years either in a cage or in a dungeon, where the only lucidity I found were my thoughts of you, and you want to waste your life for pride…_

Pride was meaningless, yet many warriors had given their souls for such a futile sin.

"If that is your duty: _yes_," he said a little too roughly than he had originally intended. Ashe gasped at his tone.

"_Stop being so stubborn!_" Vaan shouted at her. "Keep on like this and you're gonna get us killed!"

"Don't interrupt," she told him quickly, as if he was one of the servants in the palace who had said something she did not like.

"What?" the boy exclaimed and it took Basch a few seconds to realize that his surprise was not at her words.

A stone… a glowing stone. Could it be?

"It was in the palace treasure."

"Well, well!" Balthier said. Judge Ghis laughed.

"Splendid! You've brought the Stone with you! This spares us a great deal of trouble," he said.

"Don't give it to him!" the princess shouted, pleaded. The boy looked at the sky-pirates, seeking allowance (he had promised them this jewel after all). They nodded (Balthier not without a grunt of disappointment).

"You have to promise: no executions," Vaan said, giving the Archadian the sole proof of princess Ashelia's birthright.

"A Judge's duty is to the law," he said. "Take them away. Lady Ashe is to be quartered separately."

* * *

"So you were carrying it all along?" Basch asked the boy as they were being led away. How he hated having Archadian chains on his wrists, so soon after they had been freed. "The Fates jest." _Yet again_.

"Tell these Fates of yours to leave me out," Balthier told him, irritated at his words.

"Keep quiet!" one of the soldiers yelled.

"There was nothing else that I could do. You know that," Basch said, but his tone was apologizing. _I'm sorry that I lead you into this mess, my friend._

"Oh, I understand," Balthier assured. "Honor, duty and _all that_. I still can't believe that was the princess." _You're in serious trouble, Basch. Loving someone who hates you._

"I said keep quiet!" the soldier shouted again, trying to hit them. Only to fall by the hands of his prisoners.

Taking the opportunity, the party took care of all the rest of the imperials around them. Just as they thought they were done, they heard a gruff and turned around, only to see the last of the soldiers fallen by the hands of an his comrade. Their savior removed his helmet, and Basch was not as surprised as he probably should have been, to see Vossler's face.

"The marquis has been busy," Basch remarked.

"Not lightly did I beg his aid," his friend told him, as he moved to unlock the chains. "Listen, it has been two full years. I have alone kept Her Majesty safely hidden. I doubted friend and foe alike. I could trust nobody." It was the closest to apology Basch knew he would get.

"You did your duty," Basch said in understanding. "And mine for me."

"I'm getting her out. I need your help," Vossler told him.

"Of course." He didn't need asking.

* * *

Ashe had been sitting in the empty room for a few hours, thinking about the recent events. She felt dizzy and light-headed from all of it.

She heard the doors open.

"You are unharmed?" Vossler asked, even before they were fully in.

"Vossler, I –" She had stood up so quickly that her knees gave in on the second step. He caught her and steadied her.

"Majesty!"

"It's nothing. I'll be fine."

She then heard the sound of once dearly familiar footsteps near her and looked at the man who had plagued her nightmares and her fantasies. She sucked in her breath.

"You…" she whispered.

_Hush now, you traitorous heart. He's not the __man__ you used to love. He's the one who is responsible for all you've lost__... __even hi__m__._

And why had Vossler let him come? Something was incredibly off.

"Come one, come on. Let's go! What are you waiting for?" Vaan exclaimed. "Penelo's still out there."

"We should hurry," Balthier agreed. "They won't be long."

"We will talk later," Vossler told her.

Ashe nodded.

* * *

Soon the alarms on the airship began screaming, the light changing from normal to red.

Their escape had been found out.

_Damn. I will not be caught again!_

"Majesty. We will cut you a path."

"I _will_ _not_ place my trust in the sword of a traitor!" she said, outraged.

"Yet trust his sword we must, traitor or no," Vossler told her. "I see no other way." It was only the years of comradeship that condemned her not to argue, at least not now. "We track back, commandeer a ship and make our escape!" Her second-in-command turned to the others then, as if they were some of the men from the Resistance. As they obeyed and hurried forwards, she sighed in anger.

After a few minutes of frantic running and fleeing from imperial soldiers, they collided ways with Lord Larsa and Vaan's friend, Penelo. As Ashe watched the affectionate reunion of the two friends, the Emperor's son claimed her attention, telling them he would help them. Ashe instinctively looked at her friend, as she always did when they were in a tight situation. "Captain Azelas, you will follow me," Larsa told him. "We must reach the airships before _they_ do."

"Why would you let us leave, knowing who we are?" Vossler asked. The Lord turned to the princess then:

"Lady Ashelia. By all rights you ought not even to exist. That you and Captain Ronsenburg were made to appear dead… is like a hidden threat laid bare. Your action hereafter will pull at that thread… and we will see what it unravels." _But why are you doing it, boy? How come your homeland's power in not one of your utmost priorities? _"This is our chance! We must see this through, and get to the bottom of it. I believe 'tis for the good of Dalmasca, and the good of the king should rule under terror and slavery." _This boy is not yet adolescent and yet he is already a grater man, a wiser man than his father and brother._

The slight shift of Vossler's armor snapped her moment of fascination towards the prince of Archades.

"Very well then," she said softly.

"Thanks, '_Lamont'_."

"Ah, I must apologize," Vaan grunted. "Penelo, for you." Lord Larsa turned towards the girl. "May it bring you good fortune," he said as he gave her a sample of nethecite.

"Thanks," she replied quietly.

The young prince ran to Vossler's side then.

"Let us go."

Ashe's second-in-command turned to her once knight before departing, and they exchanged some kind of quick, silent conversation and it irritated her to no end.

* * *

Just when Ashe thought they were almost out, she saw Judge Ghis.

"Such a great shame," he said mockingly. "I must confess: I thought you the one who would help us restore peace to Dalmasca." She heard the portal behind them open and the room was flooded with soldiers. "No matter. We hold the proof of your royal lineage. A maid of passing resemblance will serve our purposes now. As for you, my dear…" the Judge said as he readied a fire attack. "_**The Empire requires you no more!**_"

In vain, as it seemed to be swallowed by something behind them.

"What was _that_?" Penelo asked in wonderment, looking at the piece of stone in her hands.

"The nethecite," Balthier told her.

_I'll waste no more time. Let's get this over with, Ghis._

Ashe ran towards the Archadian.

"Your majesty does not disappoint!" he said in the manner one tells a child its drawing is good. She could already hear the sound of clashing weapons and cries behind her. The battle for their freedom had started. "Ever quick to spurn an honorable surrender, as was your father."

She gasped, as if wounded.

"_You know nothing of my father!_"

She ran to aid her companions then, taking the enemies out with but a few hits of her sword.

Soon the Judge also engaged in the battle, but as the party quickly took care of the imperials it was all of them against him.

Finally Ghis gave signs of weakness, as he wavered and his back hit a wall. The ugly helmet fell from his head, revealing a pompous looking, middle-aged man.

Precisely at the moment she readied her blade to bite at him, Vossler ran into the chamber.

"We've secured an Atomos. Come!"

_Damn it all!_

* * *

_He_ and Vossler briefly told her about how things came to be the way they were – starting from the truth behind her father's death, to his imprisonment in his old Academy, to how Balthier and Fran had saved him and returned him to Rabanastre where he met Vossler, and how he came to Bhujerba, seeking aid from her uncle, Halim Ondore.

Though she seemed almost accepting, inwardly she felt confused. As if for a second time in her life, all she knew turned out to be a lie. Or per chance, the first time? For it now seemed that what she once believed was a bitter guise was truth, and what she had thought was truth – a poisoned lie fed to the mass by the Empire. The fruit of knowledge now turned out to be rotten from the inside.

And this distressed her greatly.

It was hard to believe that the words spoken by someone thought dead were truth. It was unsettling to know that her world could be shifted and turned upside down in such little time.

"Perhaps you forget all that Ondore had wrought," Ashe reasoned yet again, once they landed in Bhujerba, attempting to hold onto at least some piece of her old believes.

She had lived two years with the knowledge that even her uncle had betrayed her, in his siding with the Empire.

"I _do not_ forget, Majesty," he told her. "It was by his counsel, dangerous though it may have been, that we were able to free you. You must meet with him, Your Highness, and give ear to his words. He may act in league with the Empire, but his heart is not." She may have looked at him with her mouth half open, but she had a reason – she had forgotten the clearness, the confidence, the roughness, and the regal, dear notes of his voice.

"It is as he says," Vossler agreed after a moment of silence. As Ashe turned to look at her friend, she felt that _**his**_ eyes never left her. "… I ought not have kept Ondore at so great a distance for so long a time. I have played the fool!" the revolutionary exclaimed, disappointed in himself.

"You were only being cautious," she comforted him softly.

"Majesty, I would ask you for some time. On our own, we struggle in vain to restore Dalmasca. I must search out some other way." _What is he meaning to say? _"Until I should find it, I would have Basch remain at your side." She dared not look at the man in question, though she knew he was again looking at her. "Doubt him you may, but I measure his loyalty to Dalmasca no less than my own."

Ashe sighed.

"I know you would not speak so lightly," she told him. If there was one thing she still believed in, one hundred percent, it was Vossler. And if Vossler believed in _him_, then so would she… to a degree. "Very well."

The commander of the Resistance then turned to his Landisian friend:

"Keep her well," he ordered. "Go to Ondore and await my return."

Vossler then turned and walked away, leaving her to cope on her own, with _him_.

_I will preserve, you'll see, __**Azelas**__._ She was angry at him – a little. She did not show it, of course, but she knew that he would feel it, as he knew her so well.

* * *

The meeting with the Marquis had been… emotional, to say the least. Years of disdain could not be erased so lightly.

_He_, on the other hand, fended well with the interaction with Ondore, and reacted warmly when his godfather embraced him and proclaimed loudly: 'I knew you would succeed!'

Soon the reunion turned serious, however, as he went back to his chair and turned to his niece:

"Sit, my dear. Tell me a word of what truly happened two years ago. How did you mix with the likes of the revolutionaries?" Ashe did not sit, but she did tell him of the story behind the Empire's lies.

"I had not planned to fake my death; I had simply wanted to escape from Vayne's machinations, but he later twisted my plan for his own good...

"When Vossler learned my father had been killed the night of the treaty-signing he returned to Rabanastre to aid my escape. There was still time before Vayne's reach extended too far." She then returned to the present. "We thought that you could protect me."

The marquis stayed silent for a moment, looking at his folded hands.

"However, when I then made the announcement that you had taken your own life… I must have seemed a model citizen of the Empire." Ashe looked down. "The announcement, you see, was Vayne's suggestion. Of course, at the time I was reluctant, but I could not perceive his reasons. Now it is clear. He meant to drive a wedge between us." _There is no time for melancholy, uncle!_

"Halim, we're past all this. Bhujerba must stand with us! We _can_ stop Vayne!"

Her uncle sighed and stood up, looking her straight in the eyes.

"I once knew a girl whose only wish was to be carried in her uncle's arms." _Steal your mind, uncle._ _I'm not that girl anymore. I've seen war. I've seen death._ _Have faith in my capabilities._"But your Majesty is a woman grown now."

"Then Bhujerba will aid me -?" the Marquis interrupted her.

"Suppose for a moment you were to defeat Vayne… What then?" He started pacing around his drawing chamber. "You cannot simply rebuild your kingdom with the only proof of your birthright stolen. Without that, the Gran Kiltias on Bur-Omisace cannot and _will not_ recognize Your Majesty as the rightful heir." _So it was all in vain…_"You may yet be a princess, but without proof of your identity you are powerless. You will remain with me. We do nothing till the time is right."

"I cannot just wait!" Ashe exclaimed, outrageous.

"Then what does Your Majesty propose we do?"

"Uncle Halim -!"

"Incidentally, what is the going rate for rescuing princesses these days?" Balthier asked after a moment of pregnant silence. The princess turned and walked away. She was in no mood for this.

If she had stayed in the chamber just a minute longer, she would have seen Basch collapse on the ground, hear the frantic words of her companions.

But she was running to the room she had stayed in during so many past summers, and she witnessed none of it.

* * *

The moment her highness exited the room, Basch's mind blanked out. He had not felt good since before they boarded the Atomos, but had not complained.

The next thing he knew was the light of the sun and Penelo's worried face.

"Captain Balthier! He's awake!" she shouted. Basch heard hurried footsteps and Balthier's face was soon looming over him as well.

"Ffamran… what happened?" he asked, his voice still too rough from sleep.

"You fainted. From hunger and exhaustion, no less," the sky pirate told him. "When was the last time you ate or rested?"

"In Rabanastre." Balthier looked towards the ceiling and threw his arms in the air.

"Two days ago…" he whispered. "And I, the fool, not even once offered you to sit down and eat, when we were in Bhujerba!"

"How long was I like this?" Basch croaked, not wanting to hear more of his friend's self-hating comments.

"The rest of the night and well into the next day. It is noon now," Penelo offered.

"Thank you." The once knight told her and then asked: "What happened to her highness?"

"She's still in her room, refusing to go out, but I've a feeling she's up to something," Balthier said. "Basch, by the by, tomorrow morning Fran and I are leaving. The marquis gave us the money and our clothes have almost dried. Not that I don't appreciate the Bhujerban fashion, but I rather miss my old vest and leather pants." Basch nodded solemnly. "Come on, let's get you some needed breakfast. I'll call for the servants." Basch noticed the tone of his friend's voice as he said those words.

Perhaps there were some things that could be missed, once you give up the life of a noble. With Basch, it was the gardens of his mother, the carefree song of the birds on the tree next to his room, the long, vast corridors with rich paintings and decorations and books. "Just don't eat too much, otherwise you'd get sick."

* * *

Ashe was in a silent protest. She refused to eat, or to open to anyone, or to go out (even if it was her uncle that begged her).

She thought up plans for escape and all the possible things she could do once she was away from Bhujerba. The Marquis' words had their reason, she had to admit.

What would she do if she succeeded in restoring her kingdom? She had no proof of her lineage.

But…

If her plan succeeded, all would turn out well, in the end.

* * *

It was well into the night, when she strode out of the dark corridors of her uncle's mansion and into the place where the _Strahl_ was parked. Luckily, she knew how to fly a ship… to a certain degree, at least.

"What are you doing?" Vaan's voice startled her from behind and she almost jumped. "_This is_ _Balthier's_ _ship_," he said the name with the respect a street artist used when talking about a royal painter.

Ashe understood him – she had borne a certain fascination with pirates and adventure as a child though as an adult, in the face of the forced lifestyle of a revolutionary, this fascination had diminished.

"I'm going to retrieve the Dawn Shard. It's the proof that I need," Ashe said as she looked at the controls and tried to figure them out. "I know where it's hidden. I'll return his airship later."

"Are you crazy?" She turned to look at him, as she wanted him to understand the importance of her task.

"This is something that I have to do! Not only for myself, but for all those who have fallen!" _My father, my husband…_ "I will _not_ be made to hide!" When she saw no true understanding in his eyes, she sighed in irritation and turned back to solving the mystery that was called _T__he_ _Strahl_. "I'll fight alone, if I must."

"You still have Basch, right?" _Th__at__ man… I don't really want to do anything with him, right now.__..__ Right. How did I start the engines, again? Gods, this ship is like nothing else I've seen before! _"…what are you trying to do?" she heard Vaan ask.

"I'm trying to concentrate!" she shouted angrily, standing up.

"That's quite enough, Your Majesty," she heard an unfamiliar voice but surprisingly, it was Balthier from whom the voice came. She supposed it had something to do with the strange device he was holding. "What do you think? A bit over the top?" He turned the device off and his voice was back to normal. "In my line of work, you never know when something like this may come in handy." He turned the device on again and this time the voice she heard was her own, as he repeated her previous words. "'I'm trying to concentrate!'" He smiled and she felt at loss for words. Should she apologize to a thief for her attempt to steal his ship?

"I'm leaving you with the Marquis," he told her.

"You can't!" she pleaded.

"Trust me, you're better off staying here." No way was she staying here.

"Suppose you kidnapped me instead?" To her joy, he stilled. "You're a sky pirate, aren't you? Then steal me! Is that so much to ask?"

"What do you have that I would want?" Balthier asked. _What all pirates want…_

"The Dynast King's treasure." She heard him inhale sharply. "The Dawn Shard is but one of the riches that lie waiting in King Raithwall's tomb." The man turned and whistled.

"King Raithwall, you say?"

"Kidnapping royalty is a serious offense." Basch's voice came to her ears (and heart) like a bolt of lightning. "It won't do much to lower the bounty on your head."

"How much is the price on your head these days, I wonder?" the commander of the pirate airship retorted but Basch paid no attention and walked towards the princess till they were within but an arm's length.

"_Allow_ _me_ to escort you in Vossler's place," he asked. As she was currently a bit breathless, she simply settled with a nod.

"Will you be joining us?" she heard Fran say. _Oh come on, even Penelo is here with the viera. Why don't Ondore, Vossler and Vayne come here and we'll all make a grand party! __A waltz __with Gramis doesn't sound too bad__ right now__, right?_

In the end it became clear that they would all be going - even Vaan and Penelo.

"Then it's settled. We should leave before the Marquis realizes she's missing," Fran said. "Like proper kidnappers."

* * *

The Strahl could not continue in the Jagd as the skystones that powered it did not work there. So as the morning came they left it in the Dalmasca Wasteland, but not before Balthier made it invisible – another one of his 'come in handy often' tricks, Ashe supposed.

She looked towards their future path.

"Across the Sandsea, to the Valley of the Dead. And to King Raithwall's tomb below," Ashe said in a hushed voice full of thrill.

She heard Vaan and Penelo argue childishly about something meaningless and sighed. She saw no place for these kids in this dangerous venture.

* * *

The Ogir-Yensa was one of the most beautiful things created by nature Basch had ever witnessed – neither sand, nor water, but an illusion of a sea, a mix of two elements that could only ever be truly united by magick.

They passed through an abandoned construction that had once been build to draw oil from the ground.

"Did Dalmascans build this?" Vaan asked him.

"No," Basch said softly. "The Rozarrians. Their Empire lies far to the west, ever at war with Archades. Heedless of the kingdoms caught in their midst. Dalmasca. Nabradia. Landis."

"'Tis the small craft's fate: to watch the list of the galleons and pray for light winds," someone behind them said. They all turned.

"Vossler! Why are you here?"

"Imagine my surprise when upon my return to Bhujerba, I find both you and the Lady Ashe have vanished." His tone was unsettling. _It's not like we've eloped, Vossler._"I thought you above consorting with sky pirates."

"Balthier is a man worthy of our trust," Basch declared. "And it was the Lady Ashe's decision. I am content to lend my arm. As I could not when Rasler died, or when her throne was taken." He looked down. "Never again. I will defend her this time."

"You walk a knight's path," Vossler told him but with a cautious tone. _Remember this. Do not forget yourself, my friend_.

Ashe's second-in-command then inquired of her whereabouts. Basch complied, and as the other man walked away, Balthier ran to him, shouting that it was Urutan-Yensa territory. These creatures had always been unfond of visitors.

* * *

They were running in a particularly dangerous and full of monsters path, and she had walked far behind the rest of the party. For once Basch was not by her side like a shadow - Vossler had called him forward.

Unexpectedly a few Urutan-Yensas attacked. Ashe pulled out her sword and fended her self, slaying the first two. From behind her back, the princess heard a sound and as she turned, she saw one of her attackers-

Soon the creature lay dead on the ground, however, as Basch had hurried to help her once he saw her situation.

"I could have saved myself!" Ashe yelled. "I did not need your help!"

The rage in his next words surprised her: "Don't be foolish, princess! You can't see every danger lurking behind your back... Acknowledge that there are times when you won't be able to act accordingly fast." He sighed and his voice grew more tender. "Sooner or later, you'll have to trust me again."

Despite his anger, he did not leave her side till the end of the day.

She had to agree with him: someday she would have to trust him again. It was Basch, and Basch was innocent now – hating him would be like the Sun hating the heat of its core or the sea hating the cool darkness of its depths.

* * *

It was already dark and the party had decided to call it a night and settle in a clearing.

They took out some of the provisions they had taken from the airship and dined. Strangely everyone were looking at Basch with utmost care, and insisted that he ate more (Balthier even gave him half of his portion).

After they were done, the party scattered - Vaan and Penelo laid somewhere near and stargazed; Vossler and Basch went into their tents early and Fran went to gather more wood.

It left Ashe alone with Balthier.

She did not know why, but she felt comfortable in the sky pirate's presence. Perhaps because he was the stuff her dreams had been made of.

She looked at Basch's tent and marveled at the simple fact that he was truly inside of it. Basch von Rosenburg- no, Antoine Artemis, prince of Landis, her childhood friend, probably her first love and – till recently – her most hated enemy.

"You know," Balthier said. "He told me that when he was in Nabudis, the thought of you was one of the things that kept him safe. He is unimaginably devoted to you, princess."

Ashe had heard those words before. She knew of Basch's unfailing devotion towards her, but she also knew that she could not _let go_...

"It's so tiring, Balthier," she found herself confessing. "I don't want to feel this way anymore."

"Then don't." As if it was this simple.

"I don't know what else will give me strength to continue moving."

"Perhaps, Your Highness, you'll find your own inner force, once you stop relaying on something fake or destructive" he told her. "Maybe it is a premonition or _something_, but I think you should talk to your knight. Soon."

Ashe nodded. "Perhaps you're right so."

"I know I am so."

Ashe looked at Basch's tent again and sighed.

Sooner or later she would give in to him, but not now.

* * *

It was on the third night in the desert, the night before they were to reach the tomb.

She stole through the light of the moon, from her tent to his. The dark, seductive air of the darkness chilled her and her heart battered like a caged animal awaiting release.

He was not asleep, Ashe realized, as she came inside. The only reason the princess knew this was because of the lone, fickle fire of the candle that illuminated his blue, _blue_ eyes.

His face possessed a kind of a hollowness that did not settle well in her and she now – by the fading light – realized just how thin and fragile had this man become since the last time she truly saw him. Though he still radiated the masculinity and strength she had come to rely on since child, there was now a sense of suffering and even fragility in his features. It took her aback.

"Majesty." His voice hitched. She waved her hand in dismissal and it shook.

"Stand up," she ordered. He complied. "Remove your shirt," she said softly. Reluctantly, he obeyed.

She neared him slowly, came in closer, to inspect the damages that the Empire had done to his back, his stomach, his whole body as far as she could see. Scars, wounds, gashes he carried in a proud way as a sign of his never-failing loyalty to her. She traced ever so slightly, the newest, the deepest one - on his shoulder, where his armor stood by day. Some of his wounds were still bleeding.

He sucked in his breath.

"Did your brother do this to you?" she asked, her voice dripping with hatred.

"No, Majesty," he told her, almost proud, and she supposed this fact was one of the few things that had kept him sane during the last two years.

"But he did know that they were torturing you like this, did he not?" Basch looked down. "Look up. Anything else is not becoming of you." He obeyed yet again, ever so slowly and she saw how he berated her with his eyes, for her immature actions.

She had been robbed of anger then, as fast as she had desired to obtain it - all because of a single glance of this man. It actually scared her, like nothing else ever before - the sheer, desperately raw power he had over her.

* * *

She had been broken since the last time he truly saw her. And she was cracking still, under his gaze. It hurt him more than the pain of his wounds to know that it was his mirror that had delivered that low blow. His own half that was responsible for the burning of the child-princess and the rising of the young queen from the ashes. His own fault.

"Say it, Basch," she breathed and her voice was a whirlpool of grief and command and softness.

"What, princess?"

"The truth. Tell me it's true; tell me you did not do any of the things the world condemns you for. Tell me you are loyal to me. Tell me the truth, or the lie, whatever it is."

"I am innocent." She leaned into him then, so closely he thought she was going to kiss him, but she stopped herself. Instead she tried to caress his face, but he caught her hand and looked at her, his eyes hard as diamonds.

A salty tear washed at the blood of one of his wounds.

"Yet _I_ am not," she told him. "I have slayed soldiers of the Empire in cold blood. I have laughed at the face of death, I have welcomed it gladly. I have been scarred by this war, Basch."

There was a lump in his throat forming, as he looked at what he had failed to protect.

"'Tis what comes with the life of a warrior," he acknowledged and did not know what else to say.

"Forgive me, Basch," she said after a handful of silence.

"There is nothing to forgive, Majesty," He told her gently, his hand still holding hers. She shook her head and suddenly she was breaking and he knew not what else to do but to comfort her, and himself, as he drew her into his arms.

"I should have trusted in you no matter what anyone else said," she sobbed. "Gods, you're… _you_. You're _you_ and you had been everything I had believed in, until…"

"You couldn't have known... never in a million years," he said in a soothing, raw from emotion voice as he gently caressed her forehead.

"We were the best of friends…"

"I know," he quickly agreed. "I know." It came a whisper. "We will mend, Ashe." He let himself kiss her head. "I promise you will mend."

There was no need for more words.

The only sound was that of a cricket singing, and it was as if the tiny creature was giving the healing quietness its blessing.


	8. The Deception

**Chapter ****8****: The Deception**

Through the windy canyons of Nam-Yensa Sandsea, deep in the Valley of the Dead, lay the tomb of king Raithwall. The titanic structure had been build by Ashe's forefathers during the Galtean Alliance to celebrate the subjugation of the lands bordering the Naldoan Sea. Though the existence of the treasure within was not unknown, anyone who had tried to obtain it was met with 'traps and guardians most terrible'.

And now Ashe and her companions were there.

Vaan and Penelo, even the sky pirates and Basch, couldn't hold back their excited reactions to the beauty of the architecture, the massive colons, the balconies of what might once have been falling gardens. The light of the sunset was probably the only thing that had caressed these old marbles in a long time.

Not long after they had stepped in the Valley, they were assaulted by the first monster. After defeating it, they began climbing the stairs.

"Only Raithwall's descendants are suffered within," Ashe told the others. "If we enter without proof of such lineage-"

"There is no guarantee we'll make it out alive," Balthier finished for her in a tone that would have suggested he spoke of breakfast, and not of their chances of survival. "Vicious beasts. Fiendish traps. Something like that?"

Ashe nodded. "Mhm. But you must consider the prize," she said in an alluring manner. "The Dawn Shard lies within. And Raithwall's treasure."

He moved next to her. "And there was I, thinking this was going to be hard!" Balthier said with playful sarcasm.

* * *

The tomb was indeed like a giant maze - they even got lost a few times (though they always tried to remain optimistic and not to lose their wits). They encountered many monsters on their way - some of them they had to slaughter, others - hard to flee from. The place was full of Mist. After a while, they stopped for a rest.

It was not long after their little break was over, when they encountered another perilous foe. It was the Esper Belias, the Gigas, as Penelo later learned.

"'In vain glory they arose, shouting challenges at the gods. But prevail they did not. Their doom it was to walk the Mist until the Time's end.'" Fran recited, as Basch handed the girl a healing potion. "A legend of the Nu Mou."

"My family tells a story," Lady Ashelia began. There was an odd note of uncertainty in her voice. "Of the Dynast-King and an Esper. The story goes that in his youth, the Dynast-King defeated a mighty Gigas... For which the gods took heed of him. Thereafter, it was ever-bound to him in thralldom."

She passed by them all, to the gate that the monster had guarded.

"So, all this time it's been here guiding the Dynast-King's treasure," Balthier said.

"Not so," Lady Ashelia said and Penelo thought that she had walked so far away from them because she was scared to look at the sky pirates' reactions. "The Esper is the Dynast-King's treasure."

"_That's_ your treasure?" Balthier exclaimed. The princess finally turned to them, and in her pose and voice, Penelo could see that she was indeed a royalty.

"In this Esper we now command rests a power whose worth is beyond any measure," she said.

"Is that so?" Balthier said with bitterness in his voice. "Call me old-fashioned, but I was hoping for a treasure whose worth we _could_ measure." The sky pirate folded his arms. Penelo saw Fran looking at her partner, as if to say that they'd continue this conversation after this was all over and they were out of the dangerous place that was Raithwall's tomb.

Mutely, the group continued.

* * *

They finally entered the chamber that held the Dawn Shard. Basch was momentary entranced by the sight of the glowing stone, but then he felt Vossler stiffen from beside him.

"What's wrong?" he asked his friend. Vossler took a deep breath and turning to Ashe, exhaled.

"Your Majesty... we must go." The woman nodded, not even looking at him, while she boarded the stairs that would lead her to her family's treasure. She stopped just an inch of the mighty object and gasped.

Basch's heart thundered.

_What is it?_

Years spent in the silence of his dungeon helped him hear the name she uttered.

"Rasler..." Ashe had said.

She was staring in the eyes of her long dead husband. His ghost. Seeing his dear, royal face for the first time in so long made her heart sear from pain. So many things she had wanted to tell him during the last few years, but she had not expected her first words to be a whispered 'I'm sorry'. Why was she so guilty, if to the rest of the world she had loved him so much she had taken her own life because of the grief from his death? It was because she was a traitor, she knew it (if no one else did). The world was blissfully ignorant and content in its deception. Her heart had never been completely his. And it had never been completely hers, either, even if she lived for herself and not for anyone else.

Yet now, as Ashe looked at the eyes of a man long gone, a part of her heart, of her innocence flared back to life and she felt as though she was seventeen again. Her lord looked at her with warm eyes, though eyes not as ignorant as they had been when he was alive, and he moved past her. Sucking in her breath in panic, she tried to catch his hand, to stop him, willed her touch to bring him back into her arms once more... alive and very much willing to give her a second chance in happiness... but her hand touched only air and he almost burst into little stars.

_It is a mind's trick_. Ashe sighed, shaken, as she watched him walk away. Rasler's ghost only turned his head to look at Basch, and that made her breath hitch. _Either that, or I'm going mad._

The princess looked at the rings on her two fingers.

She couldn't stop the pain of thinking what could have happened, how could she have felt, if she had spend more time with Lord Rasler -he would have captured all of her heart, in time, she'd like to think. If only Archadia hadn't... If Basch hadn't been too late to save him...

"You _will_ be avenged..." she whispered to the ghost of her husband.

She felt a sudden weight in her hand and saw that the Dawn Shard had appeared there. Feeling the magical stone materialize in her hand shook her...

_Rasler... Perhaps it really was you, my lord... _Ashe thought as she looked on the wedding rings again.

Stranger things have happened in Ivalice.

* * *

_Something peculiar happened before my eyes_, each member of the party thought.

They stood in front of another ancient device, the princess touched it and they all were transported on the tomb's entrance. They had just stepped foot on the ground, when they noticed giant shadows pass them. Looking up, they saw that the sky was full of Archadian airships.

* * *

There they were again, at Drought Leviathan, and Judge Ghis was irritating Ashe again. Did he have to speak so quickly? Did he have to have such irritating voice? Did he have to have such ridiculous forelock? Did his eyebrows have to be more shaped than hers?

"You left us with such great dispatch upon our last encounter I must confess I had began to worry we may have given you some cause for offence..." the Archadian said in one breath.

"Such a heartfelt display of remorse," Ashe stated with acid voice . "Now what is it you want?"

He took a step closer.

"I want you to give me the nethecite."

"The nethecite?" Vaan's friend gingerly asked, holding the stone Lord Larsa had given her behind her back.

"_That_ is a base imitation!" Ghis shouted. "We seek Raithwall's legacy - the ancient relics of the Dynast-King: deifacted nethecite." Oddly enough the Judge smiled pleasantly. "Did you not tell them, Captain Azelas?"

_Azelas? Surely the old fool is mistaken? Azelas is on our side... I haven't... He hasn't..._

"Majesty," her second-in-command said from behind her. "He speaks of the Dawn Shard. That is the nethecite."

_No...!_

"Are you _mad_, Vossler?" Basch exclaimed outrageously.

"If we are to save Dalmasca, we must accept the truth," Vossler told him vehemently. "I will fight this profitless battle no more." He spat.

_Profitless? Our cause is not profitless! So many people have sacrificed their lives during the last two years just for this one cause that we regain our freedom!_

Yet Ashe could not speak. She had been rendered mute by this betrayal.

She heard Basch growl and slump his shoulders in silent resignation. Perhaps he too felt this stab a little too close to the heart.

"Captain Azelas has struck a wise bargain," Ghis said. _Vossler hates to be called by his first name._ "In return for the Dawn Shard the Empire will permit Lady Ashelia to reclaim her throne, and the kingdom of Dalmasca will be restored. Think of it." The last sentence was directed to the princess. Ashe refused to even look the Archadian in the eyes as he spoke. "An entire kingdom for a stone. You must admit, 'tis more than a fair exchange."

"And when all is said and done, your master will have another pet," Balthier said from next to her, as if he had read her thoughts.

_Vossler warned me about this sky-pirate. Yet Balthier is more loyal to me than my own second-in-command._

"Lady Ashe, let us take him to the people of Dalmasca. Your Majesty wallows in indecision on peril of their heads." She heard the Judge drawl out his sword. She finally turned to look at him, to see it pointed at Balthier's neck. "And he shall be the first to fall!"

The princess saw Basch stiffen from behind his friend.

"Well, at least your sword is to the point!" Balthier said with calmness. It was here when Ashe finally decided to hand over the Dawn Shard. She did not say anything again, but the look on Ghis' face made her chest tighten from anger. Soon after, they were led to airship_ Shiva_.

* * *

Vossler dared to speak, when they were already in. He sounded so calm, so composed, so relaxed... as if he had not just betrayed their friendship, as if his actions had not just wounded her. As if he was not the only one in their party who remained chainless.

"When we arrive to Dalmasca, we can announce that you are alive and well." When she did not say anything, he continued. "I will then continue our negotiations with the Empire." From her peripheral vision, she noticed he turned to look at her every few seconds. "I believe Larsa is the key. He'll listen to us. We should trust him."

Trust...

"Who are you, Vossler, to talk of trust?" Ashe finally snapped and hurried to Basch and Balthier. She wouldn't have believed, a few days ago, if someone had told her that she would prefer the company of a pirate and an infamous traitor, and not her friend's.

"A son of Dalmasca..." she heard him murmur from behind her, and something in her heart cried out.

A few moments later, Fran gasped and started breathing heavily, as if in great pain.

"Fran?" Balthier asked, the worry in his voice - palpable. The viera doubled over.

"Such heat! The Mist - it's _burning_!" She fell to the ground and started whimpering.

"Get away from her!" Balthier exclaimed. Although this confused everyone, in their shock, they listened him.

"You! Stand! U-!" Ashe blinked and the imperial was already on the ground, unconscious.

"Hold her down!" Vossler yelled.

Fran growled and with a piercing scream, she broke her chains. In a speed the princess had not thought possible, the viera was quickly knocking out the rest of the guards.

"What's wrong with her?" Penelo asked worriedly.

"I always knew Fran didn't take well to being tied up," he said as he untied his own hands. A soldier fell in his feet. "I just never knew how much." The sky pirate then turned to Ashe. "How about you?"

"I like Fran's idea. Let's get out of here!" she said and the charming man proceeded to unchain her own hands. She was barely able to feel the blood return to her fingers, when Vossler proclaimed that he would stop them. It was only Basch who stepped closer to the traitor, only him who did not freeze for a moment.

"Why do this, Basch? This struggle is futile. You must know where it leads!"

"I do know," the once-knight said. "All too well."

His voice breathed bravery into Balthier and, apparently into Vaan as well, for they both drew out their weapons in the same moment and prepared to fight alongside with the Landisian.

A battle began.

It was Basch again, who delivered the final blow. And as Vossler fell to the ground, Ashe felt tears burn traitorously in her eyes - both from the grief of losing a friend in so many ways - a friend so dear, who had stayed with her during the hardest period in her life - and from the thought of Basch's own breaking heart.

"Ashe, let's go!" Balthier called from behind her, but the woman remained glued to the spot.

"You go! We'll catch up to you in a moment!" She was not about to leave Basch here.

Balthier nodded and hurried.

"All I have done - I've ever thought of Dalmasca first..." she heard Vossler say. She saw that Basch was clenching both of his hands into fists, as if trying to compose himself.

"I know you do. I would ne'er gainsay your loyalty," he said to the wounded man. Vossler fell on his knees.

"Look on what my haste has wrought," he gasped. "Did I act too quick? Or was your return too late?" Basch remained silent.

In that one moment, when Vossler was murmuring his final words to his final friend, the princess thought that everything was pointless -the war, the Resistance, the hume's need to place their trust in someone. All led to suffering and grief, so why do it at all?

"I can serve her no more." The traitorous tears finally escaped from her stubborn eyes. "You must take up my charge." Basch nodded, even though Vossler would not be able to see this action. He probably did not trust his voice to speak, because wordlessly he hurried to Ashe's side. They ran all the way to Balthier, who had secured an Atomos again and quickly got inside. Then there was a big explosion and they escaped, leaving Vossler to be consumed by the fires in the Archadian airships. The hearts of his two friends quietly burned like those fires, yet they knew that there was no time for grief now. Now was the time for being strong, for gathering power, for doing something that would achieve Vossler's dream and win their cause.

Later... later there would be time for other things, and not only grieving. Later there would be time for everything else, for all the things that had remained unsaid during the years.

* * *

It was when they returned to Rabanastre that Ashe saw Rasler's ghost again. Only this time she was sure she had not simply imagined him, because he returned the Dawn Shard to her.

_Rasler_, her eyes whispered to him_, I lost a friend today_.

He did not say anything, as he disappeared. Of course the late prince would not comfort her. He was as cold as the marble in the Tomb and she was as alive as the flowers that grew in the fields. It was all that separated them, this little border, and it showed her that no matter what she saw - she had to move on, to live and to breathe, to smile and to laugh. And to love.

Soon the boy, Vaan, came to her. He led her to the others in complete silence and Ashe thought that perhaps she had been too prejudiced about the boy and his friend.

* * *

For four days they stayed in hiding in Rabanastre, to regain their strength from all that had passed. Ashelia could not find the bravery to speak to Basch about Vossler, although she knew he needed to talk to her about it. Still, he had Balthier and no doubt his wise friend wasn't letting his spirits fall too low. As of herself... she found that Fran could be a wonderful friend, and it felt relieving to chat lightly with Vaan and Penelo, who - unfortunately for her - went to frequent visits to the old Dalan.

On the fourth day the whole group gathered together once more, to decide what to do next. They agreed that it had been indeed the Dawn Shard that had destroyed the Archadian fleet.

"Destructive power of such force - I've seen it before," Basch said, looking down at the princess (he hadn't been so near to her since they had run to Balthier's stolen Atomos four days ago). "Lady Ashelia, you know of what I speak." She looked up to him from the wooden chair she was sitting on.

"Nabudis." The word was whispered in a thrilled manner, and left a bitter aftertaste. His eyes were penetrating her very soul, yet for the life of her she could not read them.

* * *

She should have expected it when Balthier asked about a compensation. She shouldn't have been so surprised that the pirate would want the most valuable thing that she possessed (other than the Stone): one of her wedding rings.

"This? Isn't there something else?" she asked frantically.

"No one's _forcing_ you," Balthier said, outstretching his hand.

_So much for liking you only because of your charms and for being Basch's friend_. Ashe thought in anger, as she reluctantly handed him the ring.

"I'll give it back to you," he promised, as he looked at the jewel in his hand. "As soon as I find something more valuable."

Ashe hurried out of the room then, heard Basch's steps following her.

"Are you alright?" he asked once they were outside, and she felt the careful weight of his hand on her shoulder.

She brushed a stray tear.

"I will be. That's all that matters." _It's all that only ever matters._

* * *

It was late in the night and Ashe was wearily walking to her tent for a well-deserved rest, when Balthier stopped her.

"It could not escape my notice - your reaction to my offer, that is. If you don't mind me prying, why was it so important to you?"

She did not even turn to him, did not even stop, as she said

"It was a symbol of a love lost and betrayed. It gave me the strength to be brave and reminded me of how much has been lost to Archadia."

"Maybe some symbols are better left aside, in order for a true power to come." Ashe did not say anything. She was already laying down, when she heard him call out: "Lady Ashe? Which love -?" His voice then softened. "Which love were you referring to?"

Her own voice was but a whisper when she said, more to herself than to the sky pirate: "Both."

* * *

On their way to Jahara, the village of the garif, many interesting things happened - the party fought many monsters, they traveled through rain and through thunder, through sunshine and through laughter. But most of all, it was what happened under the stars that could truly be deemed as important.

Basch sat close to the fire, not trusting the chilly wind of the night to warm him enough. He breathed in the sweet air of freedom once more and thought how little most of the people appreciated the seemingly insignificant, day-to-day things. Like the sunsets and the sunrises, so full of life and light - a day is born, a day has sunken into the sands of time. He swore never to forget to love these sights.

He admired the stars that lay scattered across the sky and thought of that famous Archadian poet's words… what were they exactly? _'We all come out of the nothingness, scattering stars like dust.'_

It was strange, how during the first days of his freedom, when his heart was pumping with adrenaline, that he had not thought so deeply about the two years that had been stolen from him. Now, when finally calmed, he allowed himself a few moments to think about the past, to reconcile with it and to move on. People with destinies such as his only had so much afforded time to brood.

Basch could not believe how long he had endured in those dungeons in Nalbina. Though, of course, history knew of stronger men still, men who had been able even to regain their old lives, after some years. And yet, was he really strong? Nalbina seemed forever etched into his dreams, engraved into his very soul like a mean spirit of darkness that would forever torture his hopes to return to living a normal life. Gabranth's helmet was forever engraved into him, a nightmarish reminder of how their brotherhood had been poisoned by the trials of life.

He took one of the near logs in his hands and began carving a face in it. In those recent, quiet nights (save the one when princess Ashelia had decided to visit him), he had taken liking to this art. How fitting for him. All his life as a warrior, he had destroyed many things in the name of _something_. To create _something_ in the name of nothing but your own liking, he thought as a coarsely carved wooden owl's eyes looked into him, felt nice for a change. It almost felt like the first steps of the long path to healing.

Basch felt at peace, while breathing form into the wood.

"So the famous Basch von Rosenburg is now a woodcarver?" he heard a voice from behind him.

"Majesty," he said and almost stood up, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You used to call me Ashe, once," she said and her eyes told him that she was not about to pretend that the night before the tomb of Raithwell had not existed.

"I used to call a child in such fashion - not a queen," he told her.

"I am not yet a queen, Basch."

"But you _are_ a woman," he said, not quite meeting her gaze. "And I cannot refer to you with a child's nickname." He saw many emotions flickering through her eyes as he told her this.

She sighed and took out a small bottle from her bag. He recognized it as a medicine used for unhealed wounds. Many of the herbs that were needed for its preparation grew in Landis. Combined with alcohol, the mixture became a panacea.

"Please," she said quietly. "Let me try to heal those wounds for you."

With a heart beating as violently as the hooves of a horse frightened by thunder, he slowly nodded. His scars had started hurting more, ever since the rain that poured earlier in the day.

_F__unny how __I__am__ removing __my__ shirt for her two times now, in the space of a week, at that._ His thought was cut off, as he felt the burning sensation of alcohol on his wounds and stifled a moan.

"It will be alright soon," Ashelia promised in a voice softer than he had heard it in years. "This will prevent any possible infection."

"I know."

They were silent for as long as she rubbed the torturous but effective thing into his back and he tried to suppress hisses and shivers.

* * *

After that night, many others followed, in which they did speak. Mainly when they were alone, and thankfully, the others understood their need for privacy and retreated to their own little duties.

They would share stories over the fire, and speak in quiet voices. He'd tell her many things he hadn't dared to tell her before, or things he hadn't been able to. She'd tell him of the last two years, of Rasler's, of why her preference for clothes had changed so drastically (and he'd try to convince her that it really wasn't proper for someone who would rule a country one day).

They spoke of Vossler, once. After it, they didn't speak about him again.

* * *

It turned out that even the garif tribe could not help them. For its chief told Princess Ashe that not only did he not know how the Stone was activated or controlled, but also that the Mist collected in it over the ages was lost, and with it - the stone's power.

This was a big disappointment for her, but just when she had lost hope, Lord Larsa appeared bringing with him important news. Her uncle, Marquis Ondore was leading a large resistance force against Archadia. Rozarria would also declare war to the Empire, under the pretext of aiding Dalmasca. Nethecite was going to be used - destruction and the death of many was certain. The battlefield... the battlefield was going to be her homeland.

Their only chance of stopping this madness was if Ashe went with Larsa to Mt. Bur-Omisace and have his grace, the Gran Kiltias Anastasis recognize her publically as a queen of Dalmasca. As such, she would be able to declare the restoration of her kingdom and call for peace between Archadia and Dalmasca.

* * *

"An Alliance between Dalmasca and the Empire?" Basch repeated as they walked, and Ashe was confining him of Lord Larsa's words .

"Reason tells me 'tis the only course. We must avoid war with the Empire at all cost. Yet I fear I could not bear the shame..." She stopped. "Had I but the strength -"

"A shame perhaps for me and for you, but for Dalmasca it is hope," he said, turning to look at her closer.

"And you can just accept this, can you?" she asked heatedly.

"After Vayne's ruse I had abandoned hope for honor... yet never did I forget my knightly vows," he told her. "If I could protect but one person from the war's horror... then I would bear any shame. I would bear it proudly." He paused. "I could not protect my home. What is shame to me?"

Ashe wondered which of the three countries that had become 'a home' during his lifetime he was referring to at the moment.

"My people hate the Empire. They _will not_ accept this."

"There is hope," Basch said as he looked at the three children - Penelo, Vaan and Larsa, who had apparently become friends - chatting merrily. "Hope for a future where we can join hands as brothers."

His profound words made her heart clench in emotion.

* * *

When she walked next to him, Ashe noticed many things. She noticed that the way he strode through was regal and proud - like a lion, like a king. She noticed that he was almost always at her left and sometimes wondered if he had noticed it too. Surely - as one being raised to become a prince - he would have known that in Ivalice, when two people walk together the dominant one walks on the left.

Rest assured, lady Ashe is a very stubborn and independent woman. And yet... And yet. By simply walking beside him, she noticed that each and every pebble on the ground was special, the sky was somehow bluer and the barest wind was like a colorful tale of times long gone and forgotten, to those who listened, to those who dared to remember.

She had build fortresses around this one thing she needed to protect the most. Her heart. And now she found the cold stone walls demolished - by _kindness_ of all things, at that. For she also noticed that whenever he gave her the last of his water with a small, reassuring smile and an 'I'll be fine, your majesty', or when he simply gave her his silent support, he - unknowingly - was endearing himself to that fluttering heart of hers more and more.

* * *

They say that truth is freedom, and - as Ashe was not a woman of words, but of actions - she decided to _act_. She had not really _planned_ on acting on her feelings, per say. And the time was most definitely _not_ right. But the night was so alluring, so full of secret promises, and she - so tired of ignoring her heart's desire from so many years (since she had been fourteen)...

She tried to kiss Basch, that night. He, of course, rejected her lips. What else had she expected?

And still... like a moth drawn to a flame, she had burned.

* * *

Gabranth hadn't gone to Landis in years, yet now he found himself in Remonie, the old royal capital. All previous glory had perished, of course - sunken into the sands of the north-east desert as if the war had happened thousands of years ago, and not twenty. The palace was but a shadow, a memory that made the fallen ruins seem more substantial.

The language was forbidden, the distinct architecture -destroyed, the history - never studied by the children and the younger adults. Men and women were forbidden even to wear colorful clothes. And yet... There were the poets. Revolutionaries, they were branded by the Empire. Traitors. Avengers. Sentenced to death without a tribunal, should they ever be found.

The most famous one was an Anonymous, from Guillemot.

From the southest regions of the enslaved kingdom, to the northest of places in it, the songs of those poets could be heard. From the mouths of the children, from the cracked lips of elders...

_"__Dragons and legends and armored creatures, lost in the mists of time__,_

_Now slaves - our chains bloody, our mouths dry_

_Who will tell a tale of old? Who would dare the whip?__"_

He was sent here by Vayne, to spy the people, in anonymity. There were rumors that a revolution would soon rise. But who would dare to oppose the Empire? Landis was such a small piece of land and Archadia - so big.

This mission was given to him soon after Basch escaped, its duration would be a few days and Gabranth had agreed to go to his homeland with a relief he wouldn't have believed possible, a few months ago.

In the end he found nothing. No conspiration, no rebellion. Only songs.

Perhaps the Landisians could hide their trails better than he would have thought. Perhaps the rumors were simply that - rumors, lies, ravings of the mad and the drunk.

He wondered which notion hurt less.

_"__History loves the brave ones, but I want to hear from your lips, my love bold_

_Of the villagers and their worries, of the beggars and their sorrows_

_Of the women and their black rags, of their infants - orphans by half_

_Of the ugly swords buried beneath the sand.__"_

It happened so, that in his final day in Landis, he went in an inn in the town of Guillemot and, over a bottle of wine (the Landisian wine had always been arguably the best), he befriended a boy. His name was Samson. He was the quiet type of a person who, Gabranth automatically assumed, would be loyal like a dog if you stuck with him long enough.

_"__Falling ashes are raining on us_, y_et our children asked not once_

'_Mother and Father of ours,_ s_ing to us the song of the stars_

_Of priestesses and the their temples,_ _o__f Landis and the majestic white city of Navairre_

_Of the royal capital, our home, our Remonie_, _o__f the gentle queen Marie of Nabradia_

_Of __her__ sons and daughters and the two lost princes_, _w__ho would bring back the free winds to our land,_

_Our loving, lost Landis...__'__"_

The Samson's warm, brethren eyes and the alluring sense of safety provided by the wine, tempted Gabranth into sharing a lot of his story with the boy -of his lost family, of where his true loyalties lay, of Irisa, of their lost children... everything he had ached to tell Basch for the longest time, but had not had the bravery to do so, even when he had had the chance. He was not a fool enough to share the truth of his parentage, of course, but most other things he did confess.

Nothing is easier than to bare your soul in front of a stranger, they say, not without reason. And the boy listened to him without judgment, without an offence or a spit in the face, and Gabranth felt a kind of a lightness in his heart that only sheer acceptance could offer.

On the next morning, at breakfast before leaving, he saw Samson again.

"You'll probably forget about me, my friend, but I will always remember you."

The dark boy regarded him in a serious manner (Gabranth had began to suspect that this was his usual demeanor).

"A friend, you call me. If we are friends, how could I possibly ever forget you?" he spoke in Landisian.

"I hope fate will unite our paths once again, in the future," Gabranth told him, in the same language (even though he had began to forget it, little by little - Marion was the only one he was able to communicate with in it, and even she had never mastered it wholly).

"I will see you again, Fernan." There was such a certainty in his voice, and it was for the first time that Gabranth noticed for the first time the distinctive similarities between the boy and the line of Miriam's descendents, who had been notorious Seers. "But you will never open your eyes to see me again," Samson softly concluded.

Preferring not to dwell on these sobering words, Gabranth mounted his chocobo and rode off to the heart of the beast yet again - Archades. Yet he was also going home - because Irisa awaited him there.

_Though shall not rest in peace, my bard_, _n__ot ever, my heroe old,_

_My sky, my earth spoilt -__'__t__ill from our chests, the tale of your glory is told._

_Of falling stars and dragons and Mists_,_ l__egends and warriors and priestesses_

_And I only pray for us__,_ _t__o hear a tale of old..._

* * *

"Where are you taking me, Noah?" his wife asked through laughter.

"You will see! Don't ask me now - it's meant to be a surprise, love," he exhorted.

Gabranth managed to avert all her questions and teases till they were out of the city and their chocobo slowed down.

"Noah, what-?" Apparently, as soon as she saw the small cottage near the forest, words failed her. "This ours?" she finally managed to whisper, stepping on the green grass and slowly moving towards the little home.

"I've always told you that we should go outside of Archades more frequently. Why not live there, even?"

"It must have cost you a fortune! Residences in the nature, so close to the heart of the Empire are so expensive!"

"I am a Judge Magister, am I not? Money are not a problem for me."

She turned to look at him for a second, an unreadable emotion in her eyes, but in a blink she turned back to explore the garden.

"It is so very breathlessly beautiful, Noah."

"We _do_ need a bit of tranquility, Irisa." _If we are ever going to have the child you want so much._

She did not turn to look at him this time, but he supposed that she was too emotional to say anything at the moment.

Soon, however, the atmosphere lightened up considerably and Gabranth even found himself chasing after her.

"You know, you opened your eyes sooner than you should have... and you know what they say... There's a punishment for spying!" And she giggled as though she had never in her life suffered and he laughed, as though his heart had never weighted and they chased each other as if they were many years younger and a lot more innocent than they actually were.

It was in these gardens, where no noise from the Empire could reach them, where the two Landisians found true serenity and joy. It was in this cottage where, unknowingly to them at the moment, their children would be conceived.

Gabranth could safely say that in the midst of the storm, he was happy.


	9. That which divides

**Chapter ****9****: ****That which divides **

_Part One  
_

Gramis Solidor sat on his throne and calmly discussed his death with his son, Vayne.

"This crisis would not end where I gone. The Senate hates the very fact that house Solidor exists. By necessity, we must find reason to silence them."

The Emperor stirred a bit.

"Necessity? Ah, yes - necessity." There was laughter in his voice, as he stood up from the throne and neared the window.

A new Emperor was in need. And in Archadia, the only way for a new ruler to be crowned is if the old one was overthrown. It was no secret that Gramis was dying and the Senators were now the effective rulers. If he died of his illness, the Senate would end the rule of House Solidor. This was out of the question.

"Does that word free you, I wonder?" the Emperor asked, his tone growing more and more bitter. "You show no hesitation to solve matters with blood."

"The sword of House Solidor cannot be left to rust in doubt. It was you, Excellency, who tampered that sword."

"Is this your idea of vengeance?"

A silent moment.

Gramis was no fool, he knew that many of the reasons for the way Vayne had grown to be were his own fault. He had never shown affection for his sons, any of them save for Larsa who -with his innocence and cleverness and childish ways - had become his sun, his pride and joy.

Whereas Vayne had become his greatest triumph - a military genius, a strong and brave man, a patriot - yet also, his greatest fall.

"It is my idea of _necessity_," his son finally replied. The Emperor growled.

"If we do not act now, it is not only _our_ future you imperil." Ah, of course, Vayne was also a perfect manipulator. He knew of Gramis' love for his youngest child.

"So you would dirty your hands to keep his clean?" Gramis turned to look at his son and was not surprised to find his face completely devoid of emotion- a soldier's posture.

"My hands are stained with blood. I see little reason to stay them now."

Gramis sighed and he felt ancient and worn out. He had never known what was hidden inside Vayne's heart. Was there anything hidden there at all? Did he possess a heart at all? The Emperor of Archadia knew that the oldest alive Solidor son did - if only ever to love his youngest brother and feel cold hatred for everyone else.

"So they are. And so, House Solidor lives on."

The king shall die, long live the king.

Gramis looked at his Empire through his window - so glorious, so perfect, so golden. The distincts of Archades bathed in the sunset. He had ruled this Empire with an iron fist, demanding respect from each of his subordinates. He held no regret for anything he had done.

Now that he knew his death was near, Gramis reflected on his life and his loves. He had married four times, to four completely different from each other women. Three of his marriages were after he had been crowned as an Emperor- and all of his three wives were as beautiful as his country.

And yet, perhaps the only woman he had ever truly loved was his first wife, Adriana. She was mockingly nicknamed 'pug face', for she possessed no beauty or girlish charm. Yet she had been his equal in mind and no matter how arid she had been thought by everyone else, she had battled for his affection like a lioness would fight for what was hers.

He did not consider another marriage until the Senate forced him to, when the woman didn't give him a second child.

He thought of Gabranth, strangely. Looking at the exiled prince of Landis, Gramis somehow likened him to his younger self. So alike in their outlooks, so completely demoralized and obsessed with their goals that they had forgotten the true reasons of living: not to rule, not to be respected - but to love.

A heart of gold, Gramis thought, is a lonely heart. Had he been born a slave, he might have been happier.

Yet, in the end, the Emperor of Archadia did not see himself as a man who had not had a fortunate life. He had been blessed with the love of all his wives and mistresses, with the love of his son Larsa, and the respect of his whole nation. A man with such authority and power, could not inspire anything other than that, after all.

Gramis felt the sword stab him from the back and turned to look at what he had failed to love but his eyes strayed to the window and the Empire once more.

He felt the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Thank you, my son. House Solidor shall live on," he told Vayne.

"I promise I will try my best to rule Archadia well, father," the new Emperor said, but his words fell on deaf ears.

The sun had set, Gramis Gane Solidor was dead and with this, another thread of destiny was pulled; this thread that would lead to the decline of the Empire's power.

* * *

For a while, Basch's rejection felt like a wound in the lungs, even though Ashelia knew of his reasons.

But then, the princess realized something very important - she was not the same person she had been three years ago. She had lived in a world where there was no Basch, a world where he wasn't the most important thing to her. She had fought in battles, she had commanded many men. She had survived such world, and Ashelia prided herself very much for this. Now she was simply going to show him that - no matter how important he was to her - she was not about to walk with a head bowed down in shame. She was independent and strong-willed enough to move on from the denied kiss of her friend.

Ashe would show him just how strong she had become.

* * *

They traveled for a few more days.

Inferno. That was how he had described the situation with Ashelia to Balthier.

How could she do this? How could she surrender to her feelings in such fashion? Did she have no thought in mind, what would have happened if he himself did not have the strength to refuse her (though his willpower was only by an idea stronger than his heart)? What if she became with a child, had their passion enslaved them even more? What would have the world thought? That she had been whoring around for the last few years?

No, he couldn't do this to her.

Aye, love was never stronger than devotion.

He wouldn't get in her path of a queen no matter how much he needed to restrain himself.

He never told her of his reasons because his words would only offend her, no matter how sensible they were. She would have surely slapped him for a second time. Even if Ashelia knew herself, he would never again comment on her mistake. Basch knew that if he ever verbally doubted her motives, her reasons and thoughts, she would begin to doubt herself. And what good would it do to Dalmasca if its queen was uncertain in her decisions?

So the once-knight was set on remaining silent when it came to Ashelia.

No matter how unsettling it was for his spirit (never mind his own heart).

* * *

They reached the sacred mountain and its oh so holy temple. Well, _finally_.

Balthier looked at the Gran Kiltias - and while the creature lacked any physical beauty what-so-ever, the sky pirate had to confess that it breathed great respect into him. Doubtlessly, Anastasis' knowledge of every one's most hearty dreams was a main factor of such respect, and discomfort.

Just as the little prince, Lord Larsa, was about to make his much awaited by them all request, he was interrupted by a voice.

It was a voice that Balthier instantly disliked.

A suspicious, distasteful-looking man came near them and patted the Emperor-in-waiting on the head instead of shaking his hand. He was announced to be the man Lord Larsa had been speaking of and Balthier's dislike for the man did not decline.

"Believe it or not, he is a member of the noble House Margrace, rulers of the Rozarrian Empire," the Archadian prince introduced.

"I am but one of very, very many," the Rozarrian sighed, striding towards Lady Ashe. "Try as I might, I could not stop this war alone... thus I came seeking Larsa's assistance." The Rozarrian removed his shades and gave them to a young woman that trailed next to him. Knowing Rozarria's traditions, Balthier wouldn't be surprised if she was one of his many wives or concubines. "Al-Cid Margrace, at your service. To think I stand before the Lady Ashe... it is truly an honor." And then he kneeled to kiss her hand.

Balthier raised an eyebrow, offended by such flirty tone that even he did not use. This man lacked utter sense of subtlety. "I see it is true after all... Ah, stunning is Dalmasca's desert bloom..." the Rozarrian gasped. Here even the twelve years old Larsa groaned in irritation.

_Well, that's it. I'm afraid you have no chance at all of ever drawing out my good wits, Margrace. But I suppose that Basch's situation at hand is by far worse..._

Balthier's gaze flickered towards his childhood friend and noticed with a mild surprise, that Basch was not anything but nonchalant. To most anyone, that is. Luckily, Balthier was not most anyone and in the fold of the once-knight's hands and his straightened stance, he saw emotions that lay buried under the surface.

Looking down, the sky pirate saw that his pose was similar.

But of course, he felt only brotherly affection for Lady Ashelia. As one initiated in the arts of piracy he couldn't afford to trust many people, and yet he counted Basch as one of his closest friends. So it was only expected that Balthier be somewhat protective of Basch's love.

Al-Cid, along with his plea for Ashe's reconsideration of wanting to be recognized as the leader of Dalmasca, brought the news of Gramis' death. With Vayne on the throne, their chances of peaceful way out of this mess were diminished.

The Gran Kiltias then spoke: "The dreams have told me thus: to reveal yourself would imperil us all. I see war, and Vayne's name writ bold on history's page -"

The Rozarrian then dared to interrupt (Balthier scowled):

"Archadia's banners fly high. They are making ready for the coming war. According to our latest reports... The Western Armada prepares for war, under Vayne's command no less. The newly formed twelfth fleet has already been deployed. Oh, yes - the Imperial first fleet stands ready. They'll be under way as soon as the _Odin's_refit is complete," he said. "And there is more: the second Kerwon Expeditionary Force is being called in to replace the missing eight, so there will be no gaps. The largest force ever seen!"

A cold chill ran through Balthier's body and instinctively, he threw a quick glance at Fran. Her face was almost as calm as ever and this landed him on the ground again.

"And then," Lady Ashe said with a trembling, low voice, "the nethecite is the coup de grâce." Balthier's heart thudded in a dull pain at the name of the thing he despised the most.

The Dalmascan royalty then turned to the Gran Kiltias and renounced of her previous request to be crowned as a queen and instead pleaded for his aid and advice.

"It is the nethecite of which you dream?"

"I require something far greater."

The creature was silent for a while. "To wield power against power. _Truly_ the words of a hume-child."

"I am descended from the Dynast-King himself!" the princess roared.

"Indeed. Then you have but one choice. Seek you the other power Raithwall left."

"Does such a thing exist?" she asked in wonder.

"Journey across the Paramina Rift to the Stilshrine of Miriam." Balthier knew of this place. As the whole Paramina Rift was Rozarrian territory (it was utterly obvious just by looking at the village architecture), the Stilshrine of Miriam, a Landisian princess who had long ago married a man from House Margrace, stood untouched. A most daring challenge to Archadia. "There rests the gift he entrusted to the Gran Kiltias of his time. Seek it out. The sword of kings... can cut through nethecite. Why he would entrust the power to destroy nethecite, the instrument of his greatness... to another and not to his own progeny, I cannot say. Awaken Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca and take up your sword, or your dream will remain but a dream!"

The princess turned to go without another word, passing by Lord Larsa who was still in shock from the news of his father's death.

The rest of the party followed.

_Fantastic_, Balthier thought, _another jolly venture._ _I __**really**__ hope that Dalmasca will pay us a satisfying, __**measurable**__ sum of gil for our services._

He counted Fran's bemused frown as an agreement to his thoughts.

* * *

"Prince Al-Cid was so dreamy!" Penelo gushed, once they made their way out of the sacred mountain.

All the men in the group expressed negative reactions and Fran remained neutral.

"Hey, Lady Ashe," Vaan suddenly asked. "If Dalmasca is restored and you become a queen, wouldn't that mean that you'd have to remarry? For another prince?"

_I am completely blown away by this kid's __deduction__ skills,_ Balthier thought.

The princess nodded in response to the wanna-be sky pirate. "Yes," she said.

"And that prince might be Al-Cid?" Penelo asked with a sly smile.

"It is highly possible." Lady Ashe's lips twitched slightly, a twitch most conspiratious, sending Basch a challenging look. "A union with Rozarria would strengthen Dalmasca like nothing else, in a post-war situation."

Her guard remained impassive.

* * *

As Vayne became the new Emperor, he immediately dissolved the Senate. Although everyone knew that it was indeed his oldest son that killed Gramis, an innocent man had been blamed for the crime and executed for his high treason without a verdict. The Imperials, the Senate, the Judge Magisters and Vayne were all in the chamber in which the old ruler was sat on his throne, dead.

Judge Magister Drace was the only one bold enough to oppose the new one.

"Spare me your lies!" she yelled heatedly. "I see the serpent coiled here before me!"

"Drace," Zargabaath called in anger and worry for his wife. "You speak too freely!"

"Zargabaath!" Her yell was like a thunder, but desperation was evident in her voice. "Do not tell me _you_ join in this mummer's farce!" She then turned to Vayne and pointed her sword at him. "Vayne Solidor! As Judge Magister and upholder of the law, I hereby place you under arrest!"

Bergan then threatened her with his sword on her back. Judge Gabranth watched the scene unfold before him, seemingly frozen.

"You misunderstand. Vayne did not make himself an autocrat. It was the very Ministry of Law which you serve. Do you see it now, Drace? When you bared your sword at His Excellency, you bared your sword at the Law."

"You wear the mummer's motley well, Bergan," Drace spat in a cool, acid voice.

In one swift motion she turned to the Judge and attacked him with her sword but Bergan only caught her by the head and for a long moment, Gabranth feared he might crush her skull. But then Bergan threw her a few meters into the distance and Drace collided with the floor - shaken, wounded but alive.

Gabranth breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"Zargabaath, take the _Alexander_. You will accompany Bergan and bring Larsa back to me," Vayne said with an annoyed tone.

"Sire," Drace's husband bowed and turned his back on the Emperor, obeying. Gabranth did not miss his look of utter despair. Zargabaath's face betrayed emotions similar to those of a burning man at the stake.

"Your Excellency, Lord Larsa was placed under _my_ charge," Gabranth said.

"Oh? Perhaps you mistook your orders then," Vayne said, raising an eyebrow. "I can see no other explanation for why you were reporting on _my_ doings to my late father."

The chill in his body intensified.

"Your Excellency -!"

"A hound, begging for scraps at the Emperor's table. Would you serve another Master, hound? You may fulfill your duty as Judge Magister before us all." For a second Gabranth was frozen in dread by the insinuation of those words. He turned to Drace, who had fallen on the ground and appeared only half-conscious.

Gabranth heard Zargabaath's quiet scream - a whispered, dead _'no!'_.

"She has been tried and found guilty," Vayne continued.

"You Excellency I beg you reconsider!" Drace's husband turned back to the new Emperor, and there was such anguish in his voice... Gabranth could not imagine how he would react if his friend had been ordered to kill Irisa before his very eyes.

As if in a daze, Gabranth slowly moved to Drace's fallen sword, carefully placed his helmet on the floor, took the weapon, and then went to the woman.

He prepared his sword... and for the longest time he gazed into the face of the friend he was made to execute.

He breathed out in resignation.

He wouldn't be able to do such thing. He would hate himself for the rest of his life if-

"Do it," Drace whispered. "I care not." Her breaths were coming out too shortly, and she already looked half-dead. "Live, Gabranth. Protect the young lord. Protect Larsa..."

He neared her face so close, it might have seemed as if they were going to kiss.

"Forgive me," he breathed. For he could not forgive himself.

"Pray be quick."

Gabranth closed his eyes and his mind was screaming as he plunged the sword into Drace.

In a moment, her eyes turned unseeing. His own vision was not entirely clear.

On the way to the ship, Zargabaath's anguished laments cut into his very soul and he wondered why he was not running away.

* * *

Things revolved back to being dramaless during their quest to obtain the Sword of Kings, save for that one time when Lady Ashe refused to destroy her nethecite, the Dawn Shard.

But then they almost witnessed the Empire's destructive power, the ruin of Mt. Bur-Omisace, the fall of the Gran Kiltias... Had they arrived too late or too early, Archadia would have succeeded in capturing them. They'd have all been dead.

The party had avenged the helgas, even though his murderer had been... most mysterious and Balthier filed away in his mind many details and little facts that did not make sense right then.

"What about Larsa?" Penelo inquired after every survivor had gathered together into one of the chambers.

"Gone. Spirited away by Judge Gabranth," said and injured Al-Cid hoarsely, as one of his (possible?) wives supported his weight.

"So _he_ was here," Basch said in a quiet voice, as the Rozarrian prince sat on the marble floor.

"Ah, as for the young lordling, he went along - to avoid trouble, you see," Al-Cid supplied. "But, Judge Bergan had other ideas. He flew into rage and I was left to fend for myself." Ashe kneeled next to him. "Please, princess, you _must_ permit me to take you back with me to Rozarria."

"So that you can protect me?"

Balthier saw Basch stiffen.

"I would lay down my life at a single word, to be sure..." _Pffft, Rozarrians and their flowery words. They think they can charm any woman out of her__attire by slumping a few verses and looking serious while doing it. _"But I harbor no maundering delusions of valiant grandeur. Vayne has a War Pavilion jumping at shadows. They favor a pre-emptive strike. But you - you will convince them otherwise. You will see that they do not start this war."

"This I cannot do. Forgive me. But my errand here is not yet done. " Ashelia said, standing up, and Balthier's heart jumped in joy for his childhood friend. "I must wield the Sword of Kings, and with it bring an end to the Dusk Shard."

"Ah, this Stone. Do you _even_ know where it is?" Al-Cid asked and not without much gusto, Balthier called:

"I can venture a guess," he said, moving past Basch and coming face-to-face with the princess. "The Draklor Laboratory. In Archades. The Empire's weapons research begins and ends there." Although the subject was a sore one, he was glad he could help Lady Ashe with whatever he could. "How soon do we leave?" he asked her.

"At once," she told him with a nod of the head and turned back to prince Al-Cid. "As for matters in Rozarria... I bid you luck," the Dalmascan 'desert bloom' said coolly.

The dark male stood up, with the help of one of his wives/concubines/mistresses... (maids?).

"So you would leave each to fend for his own," he stated with a sigh, "Let us hope that you are not disappointed." He turned to go but then stopped. "Ah, that's right. Larsa left a message..." Al-Cid took a deep breath. "'The differences between our two lands will fade before the shared dream of men.'" He put his shades on and nodded at his woman. "My leave I take."

And he dashingly strode off into the sunset. Figuratively speaking, of course, as it was cloudy and rainy outside and the Rozarrian simply didn't possess the style to be able to stride off into anywhere and look dashing all-the-while.

_What a clod_, Balthier thought.

"How do you propose we reach Archades?" Lady Ashe asked in a weary voice when they were already outside of the temple. Her tone was somber, because they had just seen the number of victims fallen by Imperial hand.

As a sky pirate, Balthier believed himself to be above such discomposure.

He took out a faded parchment that was soon revealed to be a map.

They couldn't go by air or water, because the borders were well guarded. But Balthier already had a plan...

_Princess, you needn't worry about sneaking into anywhere when you're with Fran and I. Venturing into the lion's den is our job._

* * *

As days turned into weeks and history was written before his very eyes, Balthier noticed with disappointment that the princess and his friend stubbornly refrained from speaking to each other, except for when it was absolutely necessary. It was obvious that their reason was not one of resentment, but simply one of not knowing how to act in a situation like theirs.

Their stolen longing glances betrayed them without fail.

During this time many events occurred: their unsuccessful trip to the Draklor Laboratories where they met Cid Bunansa, his mad old man; meeting the untrustworthy sky pirate Reddas; their trip to the Ancient City of Giruvegan, all the things they learned about the nethecite, King Raithwall, the Occuria - these most powerful beings who controlled their world and lived so high in the sky, higher than even the Stral's limit... The Occuria, who tried to tempt the princess into using her nethecite for their own purposes.

Balthier's friendship with the princess deepened (for she, as said previously, refused to even as much as discuss the weather with Basch). This friendship had formed due to mutual (purely platonic) attraction and, once she forgave him about taking her wedding ring, it could only grow. They shared with each other their personal histories, and Balthier tried really hard to drop subtle hints to both his newfound friend and his oldest one, in an attempt to make them reconcile. All in vain.

Lady Ashelia confided him of her conflicted emotions between wanting to extract revenge and doing what her heart thought was right. The sky pirate believed that she would eventually make the right choice. He also believed that this choice would have to be taken soon, because he had the feeling that their little quest was reaching its end.

* * *

_Part Two_

Irisa's heart fluttered, jumped and then promptly fell like a shot bird. She had been experiencing such moments frequently in the past few days, but outwardly she paid no attention and continued to chop the vegetables needed for the soup she was making.

In a few hours Noah returned home, to their little cottage in the forest, positively starving.

"How was your day?" she asked him as he wearily took off his boots.

"'Twas tiring. Tomorrow I'm going to the Ridorana Cataract."

"What for?"

"... Lady Ashe and my brother will be there."

Basch von Rosenburg. Prince Antoine. The brother-in-law she had never seen.

Her heart did the funny motion again.

"Are you alright?" her husband asked, coming to her and pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"I'm fine..." she mumbled. "It's just... I have a bad premonition, Noah." She recognized the feeling for what it was the moment she voiced it. "Don't go."

"I can't _not_ go," he said. "Those orders were given by the Emperor."

In this moment, a tiny part of her soul understood that she wasn't going to see him again. It was a part she furiously smothered.

Yet, she couldn't contain her temper now.

"Well, can't you _do_ something? Tell him you're unwell, tell him I'm dying. Just..." His eyes turned even more serious.

"Don't joke with such things as your life! And you know very well that I can't say no to _him_. My position there is already at risk." His voice was filled with so much hatred and wrath that even his own wife flinched. But her anger soon returned and roared, as something in her burst free.

"You're breaking my heart!" the woman wept.

"You had the choice to lead a different life, Irisa. You had the choice to marry someone else, and not a Judge... not an exiled prince without a promise of tomorrow!" There was hurt in his voice, and brokenness and for the first time since they got married, Irisa truly saw what made him the way he was, what made him make his decisions.

A brief, stunned pause by both sides.

"...I never had a choice," she said quietly, composing herself. "Not even once, from the very beginning..." Her voice then grew louder. "And now I see my future poisoned - because of your absence in it!"

He recoiled as if struck. "And did you forgive me, in that vision of yours?"

Irisa stiffened as his tone and words confirmed her fears. He wasn't planning on coming back - he would fight his brother to the death and would not survive this battle - Noah would either be killed or wouldn't be able to live with the guilt of killing his half. This was what he perceived as his destiny. One battle of love and hatred, of revenge and reunion. One moment of perfect equilibrium. And then nothing. And then silence.

Irisa knew that no matter how much he loved her, he would still feel the need to finish what was started years ago.

"No," she finally voiced her answer.

"Never?" Noah asked with a pained smile and she already felt like a widow.

"...But I always loved you."

And it was what pained her the most - this cruelty, this fact, this evil jest of her loyal to a fault heart - she would always remember him, and love him.

Irisa couldn't withhold the tears that had gathered in her eyes and she brushed them away angrily, as they rolled on her cheek. She hated being seen as weak.

"May I embrace you?" he asked. His wife proudly shook her head, though she desperately wished he wouldn't listen. He promptly gathered her in his arms. Soon she calmed down, and they sat on the table and quietly ate their dinner. Then they went to their bedroom and made love.

* * *

She needily snuggled into him.

_God, I love him so much. I can't imagine being without him._

They fell asleep then, maybe because a part of them refused to believe that they wouldn't see each other again.

In the morning, when she awoke, Noah was still there, as if making up for all the times he possibly wouldn't be able to.

Her body, her mind hurt as she slowly stood up from their bed. Irisa saw the readied pack next to the wardrobe, and she saw through the open door that he was already putting his boots back on.

As he stood up, his eyes met hers and he hurried to her side, kissed her with a passion that reminded her of the previous night.

Voices too caught in their throats, hearts too close to a break, eyes too close to tears - they didn't say anything.

She stood by the door as he silently exited the door, watched as his form slowly disappeared into the distance.

* * *

Gabranth turned back only when he knew he wouldn't see his wife anymore.

"_You are going to love again_," he whispered in Landisian.

* * *

In the lighthouse, they finally found what they were looking for.

Princess Ashe neared the stone.

"King Raithwall stood here. With this sword he cut the Sun-Cryst..." she said, mesmerized, and held up the weapon, "and took its power in his hand..."

"But you're going to use the sword to destroy the Sun-Cryst," Vaan reminded her, coming closer to her. "Aren't you, Ashe." It was more of a wary statement than a question.

She sighed, irritated by this commoner, but also fearful of the decision she had been made to make.

"Don't interrupt me, Vaan," the princess quietly murmured.

She breathed in and out deeply, gathering her wits, and raised her forefather's sword and was instantly surrounded by a vortex of energy.

Once she could see again the princess neared the stone, fully intending to destroy it -

But she could see Rasler again, a disapproving look on his face.

_My lord..._

"Lord Rasler," she heard Basch whisper in awe.

Emotion welt up inside her. But it was only because Basch's voice snapped her out of her inner desires and she realized something she had made herself blind for.

"You want revenge. You would have me use the stone?" Rasler outstretched his hand towards her, but she was having none of that. "You would have me destroy the Empire." Ashe felt tears of anger and grief begin to gather in her eyes. "Is this my duty? Is this what you want? I cannot!"

"Why do you hesitate?" she heard a somewhat familiar voice from somewhere behind her. "Take what is yours!" Ashe, and the rest of the party turned around to see the man who was talking. "The Cryst is a blade. It was meant for you. Wield it! Avenge your father!"

Realization overcame her and Gabranth opened his arms in confirmation.

"Yes, it was I who wore Basch's face - who cut down the life of Dalmasca," he said as he came to her. "Lady Ashe! Your father's murderer is here!"

* * *

_It is like a nightmare coming to life_, Basch thought as he watched Ashe's expression become murderous.

"_You!_"

"_I_ slew your king. _I_ slew your country. Do these deeds not demand vengeance?" he asked.

Ashe dropped Raithwall's sword and raised the one that the Occuria had given her, ready to fight for the achievement of said vengeance.

"Yes," Gabranth said excitedly. "Good! Find your wrath! Take up your sword! Fight, and serve those who died before you!" The Judge yelled, as he aimed to strike Vaan who was in his way. The boy, however jumped away and in the same time, Reddas countered the attack.

Basch felt his heart clash between their two weapons.

"A Judge Magister there was..." the pirate said in a calm manner. "Two years past he took in his hand the Midlight shard, stolen from Nabradia, and used it not knowing what it did... And Nabudis was blown away.

"Cid ordered this of him - to learn the nethecite's true power. That man swore to never let such terrible power be used again. He forsook his Judicer's plate, and his name."

Gabranth drew away.

"Judge Zecht!" he shouted in surprise and recognization.

"It's been too long, Gabranth!" the pirate replied cheerfully. "Reach out your hand, Lady Ashelia," he said, without looking at her. "But remember, that which you must grasp is something beyond revenge, something greater than despair. Something beyond _our_ reach. Try as we might, Gabranth, history's chains bind us too tightly."

And then they began to fight and Basch was not sure for whom his heart thundered with each attack - for his brother's or for his ally's.

"No, we cannot escape the past," Gabranth said, and pointed a finger at Reddas who had fallen for a moment. "This man is living proof! What is _your_ past, Daughter of Dalmasca?" he asked Ashe. "Did you not swear revenge? Do the dead not demand it?"

Basch looked at his queen, and saw that her eyes were on the ground. Then she looked at the ghost of the man they had both betrayed and he thought she had made her decision in that moment.

Vaan decided to act in her stead, drawing out his own weapon, but his eyes met Ashe's and in the lapse of a second a thousand words were exchanged in their mute communication.

Ashe turned to her late husband and all was quiet in the room.

"Rasler. My prince," she began in a low voice thickened by all she felt. "Our time was short. Yet I know this: you were not the kind to take base revenge!" she yelled in the end, cutting her sword through his image. Basch thought that the ghost would disappear but he did not. Ashe sighed. "The Rasler I knew... is _gone_."

The Nabradian Lord's half-transparent body began to flicker in and out and he spoke, with a voice not like his own.

"You are our saint, Ashelia B'nargin. You must use the nethecite. You _must_ be the one to strengthen history's weave!"

In those words, Basch recognized the Occuria's tones.

Ashe slashed through the ghostly vision again and it disappeared once and for all.

"I am no false saint for you to use!" she declared angrily.

Vaan dropped his sword. Basch was so proud of her he felt he could rush to her side, at this instant, and kiss her.

"In all Dalmasca's long history," she whispered, but her voice was carried to him by the breeze that passed through the stone walls of the lighthouse, "not once did we rely on the Dusk Shard. Our people resolved never to use it, though their need might be dire." His queen sighed. "That was the Dalmasca I wanted back." She let the Occuria's sword fall from her hands. "To use the stone now would be to betray that.I will destroy the Sun-Cryst! I will discard the stone!"

"You claim no need of power?" Gabranth asked. "What of your broken kingdom's shame?" he challenged. "The dead demand justice!" the Judge yelled.

_Was this thought __that__ drove you to __your__ folly, brother?_

"Even with power, we cannot change what has passed. What is done, is done." In her words, Basch immediately recognized Balthier's advices.

She dropped the Dawn Shard and it uselessly rolled all the way to Gabranth's boots.

"Yet without power, what future can you claim? What good a kingdom you cannot defend?"

When it came to _her_, Basch had no doubts as to where his loyalties lay.

"Then I will defend queen and kingdom both!" he quickly proclaimed, stepping between her and his brother.

Gabranth laughed.

"Defend? _You_?" His voice was agile, full of disdain. "You who failed Landis _and_ Dalmasca? What can shame hope to keep safe?" He held his weapon more tightly. "Your shield is shattered! Your oaths poison those you would protect!"

A battle started. All of them against him. Hardly fair, but there was no other way of defeating him. They fought for Gabranth's death.

"Hear me, Basch! Do not think that killing the kingslayer will win you back your honor! When you abandoned home and kin, your name was _forever_ stained with blood!"

_Forgive me, brother. I now see that it was I who pushed you to your downfall. It was I who robbed you of your faith. But I have something to protect. I cannot follow you into the abyss._

"Aye. This stain is mine to bear. But I will bear it willingly, knowing that I did _all_ that I could... for hope!" For _her_.

"Preen and strut as you like! In the end we are the same!"

For a few minutes the only thing that could be heard in the hall was the clash of the metals of their weapons and their battle cries.

So many against a single foe, it was only to be expected that all-too-soon he would be gone out of stamina.

Gabranth swayed, breathing heavily and something in Basch, long buried and forgotten, fluttered back to life for a second. His brother was still willing to fight, that much was obvious from his defensive posture. So driven by his hatred, so mad by his rage - Basch could hardly recognize the man under the steal armor as the beloved boy who used to be his twin.

"So you too would leave your debts unpaid?"

"Enough of this!" a haughty voice said loudly. "I can bear no more!" Basch recognized the man standing a few meters behind Gabranth as Cid, Balthier's father.

"Seems like today is a day of family reunions," he heard the sky pirate mutter behind him. "Jolly wonderful."

"You disappoint me, Gabranth," Cid said, walking to the Judge. "When you bared steal against the Princess, you foreswore your obligations to the Emperor! You shame yourself, and make mockery of Lord Larsa's trust. You are unfit to serve him as sword or shield. And so, I _release_ you from that service. Your presence is neither required nor welcome."

Balthier's father moved past him, but Basch could see his brother's hands were trembling (he never could bear to be spoken to in such belittling way) and he knew what would happen next before everyone else did. However, he also knew of Cid's enormous power, his hidden trump (the Occuria, Venat) and that in his state, Gabranth held no chance.

The feeling that was awoken in him, stirred again and he yelled a warning to his brother: "Gabranth!"

Too late, for the Judge's sword flew to cut into -

Nothingness.

Cid had vanished from the spot and appeared next to the Archadian Judge. Venat threw him into the stone wall and he fell to the ground with a mighty clash of his metal armor, but he then groaned in pain and Basch knew he was once-knight averted his eyes from the sight, mentally berating himself for caring.

After that, everything passed in a dynamical blur.

Cid took out shards of the deifacted nethecite he had in possession and integrated them back into the Sun-Cryst. The stone started to exude powerful mist. This automatically made Fran unwell, which in turn automatically made Balthier angry, which in turn led to a battle.

No weapon of Cid's could inflict the enraged sky pirate and his loyal friends. Soon, the mad doctor was defeated.

* * *

Balthier slowly went to his dying father and quietly asked him:

"Was there no other way?"

The doctor replied with an equally quiet voice deprived of the previous ill emotions.

"Spend your pity elsewhere. Fool of a pirate."

And then he was gone, turned into Mist and absorbed by the Sun-Cryst.

* * *

Basch then wondered:_Is that what the Mist is made of? The souls of all those who are lost? Is that what magick is made of?_

But there was no time for such musings for two things were happening in the same time.

Fran fell on the ground, weakly announcing that the Sun-Cryst was about to and Vaan went to destroy the stone, using the Occurian swords.

Balthier rushed to Fran's side, where she told him, resting a trembling hand on his cheek, that he should abandon her and run away for his life (in not so direct words).Reddas stopped Ashe and Vaan and grabbed the Sword of Kings from the princess and launched at the Sun-Cryst.

Balthier, taking her hand in his, informed Fran in not so direct words that he would never abandon Stone was destroyed, but Reddas had died in the process.

The party ran for the Strahl without stopping for even a second (when he had turned, Basch saw that there was an empty spot where Gabranth had been, and with a begrudging relief he realized his brother had saved himself).

* * *

They did not dare speak, as they traveled all the way back to Balfonheim. Only when they were safely away from the damned lighthouses, and they could smell the salty air of the sea, did Basch go to his friend.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked Balthier.

"No, I'd rather not," the sky pirate replied, but still he spoke "I knew that someday the old man would pay the price for his mad attempts to become a god..." He sighed. "We have no time for thinking of the past, Basch. A war is brewing, and we better focus on every second of the present we live."

Basch nodded in understanding.

* * *

In Balfonheim, in Reddas' old home, they encountered Al-Cid again.

"We let ourselves inside. The situation is one demanding some haste, you understand," the Rozarrian said from the chair he had been idly sitting on.

"How did you know where we were?" Vaan asked him.

The prince stood up, laughing a little."My little birds, they tell me many, many things." He went to Ashe. Basch saw Balthier raise an eyebrow - an indication of his contempt towards the dark male. "My lady, the war begins now."

Ashelia paled.

"Then... you were unsuccessful in stopping the Rozarrian fleet?"

"All went according to plan until it came time to request withdrawal of our... most devoted generals," he explained in his thick, Rozarrian accent. "In their enthusiasm for war, our great military leaders went behind my back... straight to Marquis Ondore's Resistance."

"The Resistance?" she asked, not understanding.

"During training, a division of the Resistance ignored their orders and disappeared. They were next found exchanging broadsides with the Imperials over Old Nabradia."

"Why would they go there?" Basch said in anger. "They were asking to be found!"

"You misunderstand," Al-Cid replied, pacing around the room, not even bothering to look at the once knight. "Those ships most surely belonged to a Rozarrian division. They may have joined Ondore's Resistance forces as patriots, or even mercenaries... but in reality they are regulars of the Rozarrian army under direct command of our war-pavilion." He finally turned to look at them. "This fifth column has invaded Imperial airspace and provoked a response. Unable to abandon them, His Excellency, the Marquis, was obliged to give his main fleet the order to attack. And the battleground... is Dalmasca."

* * *

Even though she had been told of the possibility of this, Ashe still couldn't stop the breath that escaped her lungs as she heard Al-Cid's words.

"Should this fight drag on," Balthier said from next to her as he leaned on a near table. "Rozarria will enter the fray, the defense of Dalmasca as their excuse... and we will have a war between Empires."

"Correct," Al-Cid agreed. "They will bide their time - waiting to strike until the Empire has spent itself against the Marquis. But Vayne - he will crush them and the Marquis both between his hands." The gestures he was making with his hands made her wince.

"Vayne holds the Dusk-Shard no longer," Basch told him. "His advantage is lost."

"Vayne... has advantages enough. He stands on higher ground and my birds tell me he has awoken something quite large." The prince lowered his shades for a moment so he could emphasize the seriousness of the situation. "_Bahamut_, Lord of the Sky... There was a stirring in the Mist in the direction of Ridorana, I'm told. _Bahamut_ awoke soon after this."

"It is the Mist that came before the Cryst was undone," Fran said, stepping closer to Al-Cid. "It breathed life into this _Bahamut_. If Reddas had not stopped it when he did, how much more Mist might it have drunk?" She quickly turned to her partner. "All went according to Doctor Cid's designs."

"Yes, the man's last great accomplishment, I fear," Balthier said in a grave voice. "And so it falls on _me_, to put an end to the thing."

But Ashe's head was still reeling from this newest, most horrible information.

"Vayne commands Bahamut himself?" she asked, feeling that their chances were already diminished. The Empire was now using the most powerful ship in all Ivalice as its weapon.

"He comes to Rabanastre," Al-Cid told her.

Ashe closed her eyes for a moment.

_Be brave... be strong... have hope..._

"Then I will defend Dalmasca and stop this _Bahamut_. This is my charge -"

"That's _our_ charge, actually," Vaan interrupted her.

"It's our home," Penelo joined. "It belongs to us all."

Ashe looked at the people around her - Penelo's innocent smile, Vaan's courageous one, Balthier's friendly face, Fran's warm, intelligent eyes, Basch's stormy gaze. They were there for her, for Dalmasca.

Ashelia had never felt so grateful.

"And my charge," Al-Cid said, coming closer to her still, "is to hinder and delay this Rozarrian invasion for as long as is possible. I will do what I can. Ah, yes..." He stopped in front her, took off his shades, captured her hand with his bigger one. "When this unpleasantness is done, you must come to Rozarria." She looked into his eyes and saw that for the first time, they were truly serious. "I will take you to the Ambervale of Clan Margrace. Such things I will show you!" he said softly. "Until then, I will be waiting."

And then he let go of her hand and strode away.

She did not see Balthier's irritated face, or the annoyed look he shared with Fran. She did not hear Basch's low growl or Penelo's gush, or Vaan's sigh.

* * *

_Part Three_

Once they were outside of the small city, and into the Sea Breeze Lane, no matter how much they hurried to reach the _Strahl_, the night had already began to settle in.

The Strahl itself was too small to have room for all of them to sleep so they decided to camp outside. Such thing would have been unthinkable, had they not been exhausted to the point of fainting (as was in Vaan's case) from the battles they had been through during the previous day. In addition to this, as Balthier said, what good would they do to Dalmasca if they did not have the energy to fight for her?

* * *

Later that night, Balthier decided to have a chat with his longtime friend. It was after dinner, when he sat next to Basch, in front of the fire.

"Go on," the sky pirate told him. "Continue this way and I'd like to see you try to win Lady Ashe's good grace."

"What do you mean?" Basch asked him in a challenging voice.

"You tell me. I am just as confused by the way you decide to 'handle things'."

Basch sighed. "What can I do, my friend? I am a knight in disgrace and she - a future queen. I am allowed to have no pretences for Her Majesty's affection."

Balthier tutted. "You fail to remember you are just as much of a royalty as she and that Rozarrian prince."

"Landis is gone, Balthier. So is my crown."

"And if we win the war? Could you say confidently, with a hand on the heart, that if Larsa became an Emperor he wouldn't give Landis her autonomy?"

"Too many ifs, Balthier. You are too optimistic for your own good."

"Hmm, I wonder." The sky pirate stretched and added a log to the fire. "My point is, Lady Ashe's heart is not indifferent when it comes to you. If you give up on her, you'll both end up miserable without each other. And why stay miserable, if you could fight for your happiness and defy fate? I know you can. All you have to do is to believe it. That is, unless you prefer brooding and wallowing in self-pity with the only excuse of honor and duty. Tomorrow we enter a battle unlike ever before, Basch, and _you _are being a simpleton. It wounds me to see you like this."

Balthier stood up and headed towards his tent.

"I," Basch began, and his friend stopped. "I had minded my own business at first... and I had tried not to let it get to me... but these feelings, this darkness that has awoken..." The once-knight groaned. "She's ruining me."

"That's jealousy to you. You love her, she loves you - better indulge in that romance of yours... otherwise things could end up pretty ugly. If we all live through this war, that is. Just a friendly word of advice."

"When did you grow so wise, Ffamran?" Basch asked, as Balthier opened up his tent.

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps around the same time you grew undaring," the sky pirate said and went in.

* * *

Something in him snapped, as he stood by, watching the fire. Basch felt all the emotions he had suppressed during the past few weeks. No, even longer - during the past few years.

She _was_ ruining him - he did not know what was right or wrong anymore; did not know where was south and where was north. Before he had thought of himself as someone who was _this_ close to gaining acceptance of his life. And now... now he actually wanted to fight for that which he had willingly given up.

Basch had grown to love the princess from his first days of serving her. He grew to be _in_ love with her ever since she was sixteen. As simple as that. She was the sun and the moon and the stars, when the earth had been too dark for him, or the horizon - too now... now he was about to lose her because of his damned cautiousness.

Suddenly, for the first time since his teenage days, he felt himself losing his had no idea why this emotion surfaced, what truly provoked he was angry at Noah, with everything his brother had ever done to him; or at himself, for still loving him despite it it was at Al-Cid with his ridiculous wooing of _his_ princess; or at himself, for not smashing his face and growlingly protecting what was _his_.Maybe it was at Balthier, with his perception skills that hit too close to home and made Basch doubtful of his principals; or at himself, for not being brave enough to hope that his friend's words held it was at Ashe herself, for avoiding him (or at himself, for avoiding her in return)...

It suddenly seemed like a good idea to go to her and vent out, to explain himself why he did the things he did. To say the words that had created this chasm between them, by being left he might die. Tomorrow _she_ might die (and he wouldn't be able to live through her death). Tomorrow everything would change. Even if they won the war, unharmed, she would return to her royal duties and he... his future remained ... tonight was possibly their last chance.

And she was avoiding him like the plague. And he was , with purposeful steps, he stalked to her tent and announced his presence.

She seemed like she had had trouble falling asleep, for even though it was almost midnight, Ashe's gaze was perfectly focused and orientated."Basch..." the womanbegan, confused by his presence. "What is it?" Worried, she jumped up. Has something happ-"

He smothered her words with his lips and in one perfect, life-altering, mind-shattering, moment, all had righted itself.

Then she tore herself away and slapped knew he deserved it but for the first time in his life, he did not regret angering her.

...And angry she was."What are you _doing_?" she whisper-yelled in indignity. He looked at her for a long moment.

"I'm doing what you wanted me to do but a few weeks ago!" he replied, his voice rough and husky.

"Oh, when you rejected me, you mean?" Ashe's voice grew shamefully high and she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself a little. "How dare you, Basch? How dare you-?"

"How dare I what?" the prince-in-exile challenged.

A few hot tears escaped her eyes and she finally let all that was buried beneath her skin crawl out.

"How dare you deprive me of my chance to be happy with someone else? Wasn't it enough for you to know that I've loved you for the longest time? Wasn't it enough for you that I couldn't ever be truly faithful to Rasler?" She even stomped her foot on the floor in desperate rage.

His anger dissipated as quickly as it had come.

"Forgive me," he said. "What occurred now shall never be repeated." The rightful prince of Landis turned to go, but she stopped him with her words.

"Why?" He knew that by this she meant: 'Why did you come to me?'.

He did not turn back:

"You break through me and make me do things I'd never have dared to see myself do before. Not since a very long time, anyway."

"My question still stands."

Basch felt his throat close off, but he knew that he had to tell it to her now, when he still had the gut and the voice to do it: "Because _I've_ loved you for the longest time." He almost laughed bitterly in the almost felt like he had been cut by a sword by his own confession.

Ashelia did not say anything in response and he figured he should the tent closed with a quiet _zip_, he heard a heavy clashing inside of it.

"Curse you, Basch!" he heard her quietly weep.

He bit his knuckles in an effort to stop himself from roaring in lips had tasted bitter from that stolen kiss, when they should have been sweet.

* * *

For quite some minutes after the whole affair was over, Ashe was violently, fiercely viscous. She did not think that a movable (or unmovable) thing remained that was not thrown in some way, or kicked, or punched, or cried on.

And then she realized how foolish she was.

Ashelia was a warrior - not by birth, but by necessity. And as a warrior she knew that many would not live through did not know if she would have another chance to hear him say those words to her. She did not know if she would ever be able to hold him in her did not know if she would be able to live through her regrets, if she did not do something now and one of them, or both of them did not survive the storm that was now coming.

Swallowing her pride, Ashe soundlessly stood up from the sleeping bag she had been lying on during the last two minutes (staring at the ceiling), and quietly sneaked through the night , in front of Basch's did not bother princess-in-exile slipped mutely inside, into his improvised bed where he lay awake. He readily took her into his arms and gave a shaky breath.

His presence almost always comforted her. But to now be openly in his embrace... it was a bliss, pillaging her of her fears of tomorrow.

All that mattered was now.

They didn't talk. They didn't even kiss. Silence was enough for them. It was the epitome of their love, of the way they had always expressed it all these years - wordlessly.

They were awoken by Balthier's stained voice. As they exited the tent, they saw the dawn's golden light breaking through the dark clouds.

It was time.

* * *

It is bizarre how when a warrior goes to a battle everything becomes a confusing mishmash. When later, he tried to recall the details, it was hard to remember them.

Basch also would later have trouble in recalling what happened during the battle over Rabanastre, except the two things that changed his life: his brother's death, and Balthier's disappearance.

The party, piloting the _Strahl_, had docked at the _Bahamut_, and had lead a force up the airship to find Vayne. It had been along the way to their goal when Basch had heard the ominous metal footsteps of his brother.

* * *

"So you have lived," Basch stated, as he turned to face his twin.

"I _am_ Judge Magister." Gabranth stepped closer and moaned in pain, obviously still wounded from Venat's hit in the lighthouses. How grave was that wound? Basch willed himself to be still. "Even in disgrace... My just reward for aiding the Empire that destroyed my homeland."

He couldn't still himself after all.

"Gabranth. Do not blame yourself anymore."

"You confound me, brother!" Gabranth accused vehemently, pointing a metal finger at him. "You failed Landis, you failed Dalmasca... _all_ you were to protect! Yet you_still_ hold to your honor! _How?_"

"I had someone more important to defend," he said. "And defend her I have. How is it that you have survived? Is it not because you defend Lord Larsa?"

"Silence! _All_ was stripped from me!" the Judge yelled. "Only hatred for the brother who abandoned me remains mine. Tell me: why did you forsake that which you must hold most precious?" he asked, pulling out his double swords.

"I do as I must, brother. Or is that not answer enough?"

Basch charged at Gabranth and this time, as if in mute understanding, the rest of the party remained were exchanged and parried by counterattacks. Somewhere in between, Gabranth found the time to wound him with his sharp some minutes, Gabranth had grown weary from the battle, his old wounds still not stopped his weapon the second his brother did the same with they stood, regarding each other, and Basch counted the painful gasps that were the Judge Magister's breathing. Soon Gabranth dropped one of his swords and his shoulders slumped.

"Have you your fill of this?"

Basch met his brother's gaze."I would ask you the same. Let this end... Noah." He almost called him Fernan but he knew it would be too much. Judge Magister Gabranth fell on his knees and Basch was occurred by a strange thought for a second: in the end, it did not matter whichnames they bore. It did not matter if he was Fernan of Landis, Noah of Nabradia, or Gabranth of Archades. The man before him was his brother and it was all that mattered.

"I've no right to be called by that name. That, or any other," Gabranth said and he was a broken man, saying heart-breaking words.

"Then _live_," Basch whispered. "Live and reclaim them."

Ashe silently caught his hand, signalizing that they had to hurry to Vayne.

At the _Bahamut_'s bridge Vayne greeted the party with Larsa, who turned on something in the Emperor was wounded by the sight of his twelve years old brother holding a sword against him with trembling arms, it was not seen by a short battle, it appeared that they had killed the usurper, but he rose again as Vayne Novus using the power of in that moment, Basch saw the Gabranth stumble to the battleground.

"Gabranth," Vayne said. "You will defend my brother. He will have much need in the hell to follow."

The Judge Magister pointed his weapon at the Emperor.

_I wonder how long had you waited for this one moment, brother? Was it from the start? Was this one twinkling of glory the reason you forsook your every belief and hope?_

"Yes, I _will_ defend Lord Larsa!" he proclaimed.

"The hound strays. Treason bears a price," Vayne informed.

"One I gladly pay!"

With newfound powers, they began to fight the Emperor once more. A new, fiercer battle followed, but in the end, Vayne was considerably exhausted. It seemed that Gabranth saw this as his chance to attack, his sword glowing golden, but ultimately Vayne was stronger and withstood.

"Even a stray has pride," the Judge told the usurper. He was then struck down, his helmet ran to his side, his heart drumming with each step."Here I pay my dept," his brother told him and lost the moment Vayne shouted 'Burn in hell, Gabranth!', Basch's world revolved around murdering the beast. Human, Occuria - no one could stop him. With joint forces, the Emperor of Archades was all-too-soon defeated.

Dalmasca was saved, but what was the price? How many had died in this war? How many would remain grieving? Certainly not as many as those in a war that lasted more than three days. But who were they to judge?

Basch looked at his queen, hundreds of thoughts a breath, millions of possibilities a heartbeat.

* * *

It still wasn't over. The sigh of relief still couldn't come yet. First they had to stop the two warring factions from killing each other.

As Balthier and Fran ran off to somewhere (he really wasn't paying attention to what was going on), Basch looked at his dying brother, held his hand, tried to be strong.

"Basch. Look after Larsa, will you?" Gabranth told him. "... If House Solidor should crumble, the Empire would fail and civil war would take us all..."

"I understand," Basch replied, voice barely above a whisper.

"Lord Larsa is our last hope."

The boy grasped the Judge's hand for a moment, then looked at Basch, stood up and went to Ashelia who was at the other end of the _Strahl_.In the small space of the ship, a few meters distance and pretences that no one was listening, were the only examples of privacy they would so, the moment of saying goodbye came. How does one say goodbye to half of his world?

* * *

"I see Landis, brother," Noah choked. He was coming in and out of consciousness in matter of seconds, and as Basch pleaded him to stay just a bit longer, he could already see the blue-green mountains on the southwest border of their kingdom. He could smell the air, sweet as it was in the time their land was free.

He couldn't wait to return home.

But not just yet.

"Basch, I need to ask of you one more thing..."

"Anything," his brother said without hesitation.

"I... In Archades, I have a wife. Marion, a Landisian. Please protect her. I love her more than anything that still stands tall in this world. I see, only now when I cannot go to her again, that I was a fool... I've had her and she was enough. But I didn't believe so."

He could see the royal capital as though it had never fallen. The white marble, the high towers, the window of Mr. Tumus' room in the nearest wing. The crack of the wall that was once made by an earthquake.

He outstretched his hand and touched his favorite blue flowers whose name he did not know, and the rind of the ash-trees in his mother's gardens.

And then his brother's face swam back into his eyes, the outlines blurry but demanding not to be made to fade for the moment.

"I vow," Antoine whispered, surprise evident in his tone.

The once-prince of Landis' eyes blurred even more with tears.

"Forgive me for all I've done, brother," he said as he coughed blood.

"I forgave you the moment you did it. I honestly did," Basch said as he cradled him into his arms. Strange - to think they were twins. Brothers. He had forgotten how it felt.

Cross-roads were forgotten, words and actions and scars were erased. Time was reverted for a single second and they were ten year olds again, bickering for their father's attention and sneaking into their grandmother's chamber for stories.

"I love you, Antoine."

He saw the back gate of the palace, through which he and his brother had sneaked in and out so many times during their childhood. It was meant for the cooks, a small door of dark wood that was never locked, should the princes ever have a problem to return to the reached out to open it.

"And I love you, Fernan."

_Ah_. There it was. _That_ name. His true name, which had been refused to him. Now he would finally reclaim it, along with everything it and days and years he had ached for this name, his heart- fluttered at its now it was his once more.

The door opened.

"Thank you..."

Now he was exiled no more.

_Now_... now he was home at long last.

* * *

Basch looked at Fernan's unseeing eyes and he knew that half of himself was gone with his brother's room was deafeningly silent.

But he didn't really have the time to stood up, went to the others and grabbed Balthier's communication device.

"This is Judge Magister Gabranth. All quarters cease fire! I repeat: all units of the Archadian army, hold your fire! The battle is over. As of this moment, we have signed a cease-fire with Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca... Her Royal Majesty." He passed the device to Larsa.

This would be his life now.

Larsa announced that Vayne was dead and that the Imperial Army, as the rest of Archadia, were now under his command. Then Ashe was the one to speak and she confirmed all that was said before her and commanded the armies to stand down their attacks.

"The war is over. Ivalice looks to the horizon," she said with a voice trembling from joy. "A new day has dawned. We are free!"

As she turned off the device, she started crying. Basch rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Look, Vaan! The _Bahamut_!" Penelo yelled then.

They all turned to look ahead - the sky fortress was collapsing, now deprived of its energy and Judge Magister Zargabaath announced that the _Alexander_ was going to ram it, because, should it fall on Rabanastre, the paling would not stand and the whole city would be was then when they received a message from Balthier. That he and Fran were on the _Bahamut_ and were steering the airship so it would crash-land outside of the capital.

* * *

"Balthier!" Ashe yelled at the device. "Do you understand exactly what it is you're doing?" _You're damning yourself and Fran to death._

"Princess!" he replied cheerfully. "No need to worry. I hope you haven't forgotten my role in this little story. I'm the leading man!" The signal began to weaken. "You know what they say about the leading man? He never dies!"

_Please, Balthier! You mustn't die!_

The sky-pirate, her newfound friend, the boy she had heard so much about during her childhood, did his job through her pleas to get out of the monstrous thing, through her calls and tears and curses.

_Please, come back..._

"Vaan, the _Strahl's_ in your hands! You'd better take care of her, you hear? If there's one scratch on her when I get back -" he trailed off.

"Roger that," Vaan said in a surprisingly strong voice. "We'll be waiting for you."

Then they flew further away from the _Bahamut_ so that the _Strahl_ would not be hit by the explosion that would follow.

"Balthier..." Ashe cried weakly.

_Fool of a pirate_, she found herself thinking.

Now it was truly over.


	10. Time

**Chapter ****10****: ****Time**

Abroad the Strahl, the atmosphere was somber and suffocating. Тhankfully, they soon landed near the royal palace in Rabanastre, where Ondore and Zargabaath were awaiting for their respective leaders. They headed towards the old conference room and Ashe knew that the rest of the day would pass in inductions of new diplomatic relations between Dalmasca and Archades, peace treaties and the like.

Vaan and Penelo had vanished somewhere along the way.

* * *

Ashe's head was spinning by the time night settled into the capital.

When finally, after hours and hours of negotiations, the royalties decided to retire for sleep and left the chamber which by then felt almost as familiar to them as their own private quarters, Ashe was surprised to see Basch waiting for them, in his brother's old armor.

He bowed. "Majesties."

"Gabranth," Larsa acknowledged with a nod. Something heavy and ominous settled onto Ashe's chest then, adding to the other things that were already dragging her heart down.

* * *

She later found him in the library, a place that they had both heavily missed for all the fond memories it was worth.

"Were you hiding from me?" Ashelia couldn't help but ask.

_As long as I must, if that means we would postpone the conversation that is about to follow_.

"No, Your Majesty," he said. She nodded with a smile that said she clearly did not believe him. Because this was Ashelia and she could read him even when to the rest of the world he was _terra incognita_.

The queen sat on her old armchair. "You will go as Judge Gabranth, will you not?" she suddenly asked.

"Aye."

Her sad eyes pierced at him, but she painted a smile on her face by sheer willpower. "Is there not anything left in Dalmasca that could change your decision?"

"The enemies were destroyed, the retribution is delivered, what more is there to see?"

Ashelia stood up and began pacing, and it really was the only sign that he was breaking her to pieces with his words.

"Deliverance, restoration… happy ending," she said, her voice calm but questioning.

"You know better than to be this naive, Ashe," he told her boldly.

She groaned in desperation. "Is there still a notion of Antoine, sleeping somewhere in Basch's soul? With time, you may have grown out of the attitude of a prince, and adopted that of a knight's but is not every good king a warrior at heart?"

He stilled.

_What are you suggesting?_

"Landis is gone, I am no land's king. I am not even supposed to be alive. My only future is as Judge Magister Gabranth, Lord Larsa's protector." One day ago, he might have said something completely different.

Ashelia fell back in the armchair, drained of any power left to fight.

"I see," was all she said. They stood there quiet for a long moment - both knew of the other's feelings but both unwilling to fight anymore for each other. "I see," she repeated, stood up, and left.

Basch knew the only reason she had given up on him was because she was too exhausted from the losses and the wins of the day. He furiously willed himself to remain detached and unfeeling but it was no use.

* * *

A week later when all was settled and confirmed, a festive occasion was held as a sending-off for the Archadian delegation.

The day of the festivity, it rained. It wasn't even a light drizzle, Ashe noted, letting out a sigh. Her breath condensed against the window. This rain was more like an onslaught of nature in its purest form, each drop crashing down into million others. Was it an omen for the future to come, or was it cleansing the corrupted past?

Basch, in Judge Gabranth's armor was there, accompanying Lord Larsa. Between herself and him stood a fine layer of a parchment yellowed with age, filled with ugly words that hindered their chances of ever being truly together. After that night she would probably see him again only when travelling to Archades for diplomatic purposes, or when Larsa visited. No more, no less. It did not sit well with her. It did not sit well at all.

Later, when it was almost over, perhaps because of the wine she had drank, Ashelia felt the courage to go to him and whisper:

"Meet me in front of my old chambers."

Ashe then slipped away and had no intention of returning to the feast, no matter if he followed her or not.

She would wait.

* * *

For quite some time, Basch had no intention of going to her.

As if it would help his drumming heart slow down, or drown the feeling of discontentment, he decided to pour himself as many glasses of wine as he could.

But before even the second one, Ondore came to him.

"Please," Basch whispered hoarsely. "Leave me, godfather. I don't wish to remember. I don't wish to remember anything."

The Marquis did not quite look him in the eyes as he said: "Let me tell you this: drinking will not solve your problems, my boy. If anything, it will complicate them even more."

"And how would you know?" he challenged, irritated. "You never drink."

Ondore leaned on the near table a bit and looked into crowd, his gaze unseeing. "Almost twenty years ago, I was asked by my dearest friend to do something that I thought was unforgivable and brutal. To drown my throes, I drowned myself along with them in wine, among other things." Ondore sighed. "It helped me sleep, but it did not ease the guilt in the morning.

"I was married, you know. I had a wife and a son. But my wife died from the sorrows I had caused her with my insensibility to her feelings, and my lack of attendance for her. My son, Jem, became estranged to me and left Bhujerba."

Basch lowered his glass and put it away. "I'm sorry. I did not know."

"I have never told you before," his godfather said with a shrug of the shoulders. "My point is: don't do something that you would regret. Don't let the possibility of happiness escape through your fingers. The only thing you will be left with is regret. And there is no defying this one feeling. As there is no defying of love, or time."

"Time?" Basch questioned, not seeing where that came from.

"Time, yes... in the end, it is always time that stays and everything but it that fades away... If I could spent at least one more minute with my family, I'd have been happier man, by far."

Basch excused himself then, and hurriedly walked away from the hall.

* * *

What Ashe would recall years later about their first night together would be the feeling she experienced when he entered her room, panting from the steps that he had climbed in a hurry. It would be the weakness in her knees as in five strides he was before of her, kissing her. It would be the excitement and pleasure and panic and all those wonderful things in-between that she felt as he caressed her thighs - and not only because his hands were gentle or because she loved him (because Rasler had also been a gentle lover and she had also loved him), but because it was _her_ _Basch_. Because it was him and no one else, she felt like she was finally, truly achieving the dreams that for the longest time seemed unreachable.

* * *

Before they drifted to sleep he asked her why did she love him. She then found herself confessing about the way she had admired him since she had been but a child, and how this admiration grew into love by the time she reached fourteen. She found herself even telling him of her foolish worries of her 'ill heart'.

She reminisced out loud of the many times she had fantasized as a young and naive girl that he would come to her during one of the balls and ask her: 'May I have the honor?'.

"We can never dance on balls," Basch suddenly said. "At least not until I bear my true name."

A moment of pregnant, painful silence. "I know that."

Yet, Ashe snuggled closer to him.

"I suppose," she began again, "that the real reason I haven't ever given up on you, not fully, not really ever, is that my heart had chosen you. Not my mind, not my duty - only my foolish heart... As simple as that. Oh, I've tried to order it otherwise, mind you, but it just wouldn't listen." She felt him nod beside her. "And what are your reasons of loving me?" she asked, looking up to his face.

"It seems we share the same thoughtless masters, Your Majesty," he said with an ironic smile and kissed her shoulder.

* * *

In the morning, the world was blissfully quiet and as her love slept in the bed, Ashelia impatiently awaited him to wake up. If time stopped though, she wouldn't have minded. Suddenly she remembered her father's words from years ago. _"__...And as long as you continue to ask him to return to you, he will even come back from hell, in order to protect you. You've chosen a good friend...__"_

Her lips reached his ear and she whispered:

"Come back to me, one day, Antoine. Please."

The proud Ashelia Dalmasca would never beg anyone for anything. Not if he was conscious, anyway.

This was precisely why her heart jumped when he slowly opened his eyes and replied to her: "I will always come back to you."

* * *

Six days after Noah departed, Irisa received a letter from Lord Larsa, informing her that the war was ended, Dalmasca and Archadia were currently at peace. And that he regretfully had to tell her that her husband had died with honor, in the name of said peace. This did not surprise Irisa by much. She had already acknowledged that she would not see him again. The peculiar thing about the situation was that Judge Gabranth would be returning, very much alive.

Three more days after the letter was received, she finally met her brother-in-law. In order not to raise any suspicions, they had to share a home. Irisa, not wanting to marr her memories of Noah and their cottage in the woods, decided to return to her old house in the heart of Archades. She did not like her brother-in-law. He was far too different from her husband in character, yet he stole his place - Noah had had the eyes of a storm and the heart of a martyr, and this man that she had to see each day was like an inverse version of him. Whereas her husband had been garrulous but gentle and he had loved showering her with little kind gestures, this man was quiet and cold.

One day after her meeting with her brother-in-law, a secret funeral was held for her Fernan. Those who were present were only herself, his brother, Lord Larsa and... a man she had never really met. He was dark and young and he did not announce his name. Actually, he did not speak at all as he was about fifty meters away from the whole ordeal, watching, and he did not disappear until the body was buried and the prayers were said. Irisa did recognize though, that he was a Landisian.

After the funeral, Lord Larsa and Judge Gabranth departed, yet the she stayed, silently regarding the tombstone of her husband. For a man with so many names and titles, in the end, his grave was nameless.

Twenty days after her husband's funeral, Irisa realized she was pregnant.

Fourteen days after that, she was visited by Judge Zargabaath. He told her that after Drace's death, he had avoided Gabranth like the plague and only a week ago had Lord Larsa made him privy to the... exchange. For all it was worth though, Zargabaath said, Gabranth had been his friend and he was saddened by his passing. Irisa invited him to come by anytime he liked. Somehow, the loss of their loved ones had created a bond between them and the friendship that grew from it numbed the pain a little.

Forty two days later, she encountered her sisters while she was shopping in the market, looking for basil and apples. They tried to speak to her but she refused to even look at them, suddenly feeling angry. The same day, she and Zargabaath went for a walk in the royal gardens (Lord Larsa had given her permission to come and go whenever she pleased), and Irisa suddenly found herself speaking:

"Had I not known of the cruelties he had done? Aye, I did. And had it been someone else that married him, I'd have berated them. I'd have berated them harshly. But to me, he -" And suddenly she spoke no more.

Contrary to Irisa's belief and fears, perhaps as some kind of an equivalent exchange for the death of her husband, one hundred and thirty days later she gave birth to twins - a boy and a girl. She named the boy Pierre - 'stone', for he was a strong little one - and the girl was given the name Marie.

Five days after the birth of her children, she finally began referring to her brother-in-law as Basch (in her mind, that is).

The first months after her husband's death passed in such manner. While the sun shone, she was cold to the needs of the world. When the moon raised, it was the world that became too cold and she that became too needy. Her peace of mind came when she forgave her siblings and welcomed them back in her life.

* * *

For quite some time, Basch was struggling to integrate into the court. Lord Larsa was helping him behave more like his brother, so as for the Senate not to realize a thing. He remained in the palace for a long as he could, not bearing to be in the same house with his brother's wife. He did not know how to behave around her - should he speak to her? Did she want him to speak to her? Should they talk about their mutual grief? Or should he just remain silent?

Needless to say, he listened to his latter idea.

He realized how foolish had it been, not to offer her his friendship, five days after his nephews were born. As he finally went to her bedroom to see them (he could not resist the urge) and the nurse handed him 'his children', something in his heart finally broke free and he found out that something wet and hot was falling from his eyes. The nurse, confusing his tears of grief for tears of happiness, smiled in a secretive way and left the room. Basch, holding one baby in each arm, sat on the corner of Irisa's bed.

They both agreed that the girl had Noah's eyes. Pierre had Irisa's.

Basch then realized that he found a link to his brother that would never again be broken - his nephews and his sister-in-law.

* * *

The same afternoon, Irisa finally had the courage to give him the letters Noah had written to him.

To say that Basch was surprised would have been a grand understatement. He had not known that his brother had written letters to him. He wouldn't have even dared to imagine that he had done anything but stopping with his writings after he had deemed Basch a traitor to Landis... yet he had. He had written throughout all his life - Basch found ones that were from the time they were still corresponding to the time they had stopped and beyond. They chronicled the things that had happened to Noah after he joined the Empire - his (their) birthdays, the reunion with their grandmother, her death... It was like a diary - a diary adressed to him. The last letter was dated two days before his death.

Scattered fragments of his brother's thoughts and life forever engraved themselves into Basch's mind. How it burned him, unspeakably much, that he hadn't been there for his twin while he was experiencing the most torturous and the most blissful moments of his life.

_...It was my wedding day today, Basch. If all was right in the world, you'd have been by my side. Perhaps married to some Landisian noblewoman. Perhaps even with my nephews. Oh, if only we lived in a world where all was right... But would I have met my wife then? Would there have been a wedding today, if Landis was still standing proud and royal?..._

_...You want me to be merciful, Basch? You want me to be good? How could I, when the gods themselves remain impassive? They were deaf when Landis fell. They where blind when our parents were being murdered. They were crippled when we got separated. They were mute when my unborn children died. When they were so cruel in their supremacy, then who am I - a mere Judge Magister - to be kind?...__ But__ you know what is the saddest thing about this whole ordeal, dear brother? That I could never stop writing these letters, as I could never stop wanting you to have stayed in Nabradia..._

Basch found out that the last letter was not written for him at all -it was adressed to Irisa. Admittedly, it was only three sentences, but it was enough to finally put even a smile on her face, even if it was bitter:

_Everything has an end and some things don't even begin. Cherish what we had. It was worth it all._

* * *

One year after he came to the Empire, Larsa received a letter from Penelo that told him that Balthier and Fran had sent word of their survival, but also that it was obvious even to the young girl that Ashelia missed her knight.

Basch looked to the horizon with patience, but also resolve. He could almost feel her scent, her voice, her touch... but not yet.

Two years later, when he - free of false titles and names - finally embraced the queen of Dalmasca without a fear or a doubt, and in front of all their friends, Antoine came to the conclusion that good things came to those who waited, and to those who believed.

And Balthier just _had_ to tell him 'You know, I believe I have told you this before'.

**Finis****.**

* * *

_Massive Author's Note about those who have previously read the story (and those of you who haven't)._

Originally, this was supposed to be a trilogy and the this part (Equilibrium) ended a good deal darker where Basch didn't even give the promise of his return to Ashe's side. The other two parts, which you can still chose to believe are 'canon' to this story and happened during and after the time Basch was in Archades, were titled _Chrysopoeia_ and _Airborne_. Here are their synopsis and summaries:

**Chrysopoeia**. _Ashe sets out to find a way to change lead into gold. A queen's quest to crown her king sets out a series of events and turns into a king's quest to save a nation. My take on the unreleased FF12 sequel, Fortress. Also, sequel to Equilibrium._

**Airborne**. _If you were a man born for the skies, what happens if the skies are bound out of your reach? Years after the events of the game, Balthier finds himself in a royal mess - literally. And this time Fran won't be able to help him... because she is dead. Last in the trilogy._

So here's how things were supposed to happen (bear in mind that these ideas are from an year ago and some things have gotten murky).

Part 2 :**Chrysopoeia**: was to begin with the brief reunion of Basch and Ashe, while they are in bed and he is telling her legends and myths of Landis.

Later, during Ashe's birthday celebration, the Dalmascan queen talks to Emperor Larsa (after the previous meeting with Basch she got pregnant and now she is searching for a way to make her children legal, but in order for that to happen she has to marry Basch who is not a king - this makes things a lot more difficult). Larsa promises to give Landis back its autonomy, but in order for Basch to become its king, he would have to prove his lineage to his people. Ashe, Balthier and Fran decide to search for such a proof together and their quest leads them to the far north, to a land that had once belonged to Landis (it was conquered by Landis' greatest king who was also titled 'The Explorer'). There, in a Fortress-tomb lay the proof of Basch's lineage.

The party stays the night in a near village where, during a traditional festival, Ashe befriends a healer - a woman named Armenia Piligrim who is the single mother of a little girl, Carypso. After a brief adventure to the tomb, Ashe gets the stone which glows because she carries Landis' next ruler. Accidentally though, when she moved to get a hold of the stone, she activated a secret lever that opened the sealed door in the deepest parts of the Fortress that held an immortal army of the King Explorer's enemies. Such enemy (though the party did not know that there were many others like him) chased them out of the Fortress but not before injuring Ashe (even though Balthier did everything within his power to protect her). Ashe awakens in the village, where Armenia has healed her; she awakes to Basch's face who has fled to her from Archades as soon as he heard about her dangerous quest.

They marry. Have a few kids. Begin the process of Landis' restoration. Point Irisa (who has reclaimed her Landisian name, Marion) as the consort there. After a few years, Marion's relationship with Dalmasca's ambassador, Ascanio Bartolommeo, develops from strictly professional to affectionate and soon they too marry and have a kid. Marion's rule (because unofficially it is precisely this) is difficult - there are many protests and rioting but soon she finds out that she has leadership qualities and her already strong will and the support of her new husband help her a lot. Basch and Ashe occasionally visit.

Seven years after their marriage, Ashe and Basch's relationship has cooled considerably. One night, Basch is haunted by a prophetic dream of a mysterious woman who calls herself the Oracle, who predicts that hard times are about to follow. On the next day, Ashe receives news from Armenia that an enemy force of humanoid but also ogre-like creatures, led by a half-hume lord, is pillaging their lands and has declared war on Dalmasca and Landis. Soon, Basch departs with a Dalmasco-Landisian army to the Northern Lands. Ashe's farewell is cold and distant and he notes how their marriage is falling apart with everything they don't say to each other. That silence is no longer benefitting for them

There were some war stuff going on then and mainly they were an extended, speculating version of the mapped version of the story of Fortress that you can find at Final Fantasy's wiki. Then the man who used to be Ashe and Balthier's guide in the beginning, turns out to have betrayed them and in the process Fran dies and it is heartbreaking to see her go and then Balthier's face and feelings would have made you bawl your eyes out. The rest of the party is saved from death by the Oracle, this mysterious phantom-like woman who promptly disappears. Later Basch stumbles on Balthier sleeping with a viera woman, to which Balthier later comments: he was wondering what it might have been like if he and Fran had ever crossed that line.

As winter falls, Basch begins writing letters to Ashe. During the winter, they fall in love with each other again, through their letters. Around this time, Ondore is mysteriously poisoned in his island Bhujerba and Basch takes these news very hard.

As spring comes, the war begins again, and its massive and in epic proportions, and they win... but during the final battle, Balthier and Basch get separated from the rest of the army. Basch is badly injured and unconscious, but since they've reached a very distant part of the lands- a half-ruined ancient temple, no one can help them. That is, until the Oracle, the mysterious savior, appears again and tells Balthier the truth of her identity.

It turns out that this is Ashe from the future, who in the original time stream has lost Basch in the war. Driven from grief, she began a relationship with an equally lost Balthier that didn't end well and concluded with their torturous estrangement. After that, Ashe found an ancient Landisian order that in the distant past had trained the Landisian queens to become priestesses of Mist and open up their mystic channels. The queen of Dalmasca passed her crown to her oldest son and joined this order. There she found out that through Mist one could control time (this was the main reason I named the trilogy _'The Mists of Ivalice'_... don't know why I became so unsure of the name after that). She's been alive for hundreds of years and meddled in time so much that even her face is no longer her own (hence why Basch didn't recognize her... this might also mean that the Oracle is how Ashe would have looked if there was no Oracle to mess with time). This can actually be explained with the theory of the atom - that even by looking at it, one could change it.

The Oracle's main goal was to save Basch from death (the time theory might also mean that the original Basch didn't look like this...), and to kiss him one last time. The price she would have to pay for this one too great crime against time (saving someone from a fixed death) would be her own life. Then the Oracle then cures Basch by infusing Mist into his wounds and with a smile she kisses him, fading. Balthier is left wordless and with tears in his eyes.

Finally, present Ashe who has come to the battlefield, and a victorious but ignorant to the truth about the Oracle Basch are reunited, but Balthier ends up all alone and miserable (although he hides it behind his usual quirky façade) and refuses to fly anymore.

Part 3: **Airborne**: was to be about Balthier's spiritual journey and also his physical venture to prove that for the first time he is falsely accused of a crime.

Was to have three long chapters: Troubles grow by the hour, Observations of a dishonorable gentleman, & The many refusals of Balthier Bunansa (and an epilogue).

It's ten years after the events of Chrysopoeia, Balthier hasn't flown the Strahl in years, until he gets a get-a-hold-of-yourself visit from fellow pirate, Vaan, who has become filthy rich along with his wife, Penelo - they are dressed in more jewels and expensive clothes than even Emperor Larsa and his own wife. Balthier then decides to accept a shady offer that he simply could not resist. I can't remember what the deal was about but its goal is to frame Balthier as a conspirator against Dalmasca, which it succeeds. Running from Dalmasca's army , he hides in the house of the siblings Peppe and Balthazar from Bhujerba (similar to Vaan in the original story, Peppe has always dreamed to become a sky pirate, while her brother is more conservative and honest). After a few weeks of hiding there, Balthier is captured by Dalmascan officers and led to the kingdom. Ashe believes that the godfather of all of her children is innocent, and he promises her that if she gives him the chance, he'd find the true conspirator against Dalmasca and Landis. Ashe agrees. Before departing, he asks where his oldest friend is, but the queen tells him that Basch is terribly ill.

Balthier, after many adventures with Peppe and Balthazar, finds out through carefully hidden clues and sources that the true conspirator is actually Dalmasca's Royal Counsellor, who does not like these Dalmascan new ways and the way they are giving Landis its autonomy. He has secretly been paying the cook to poison Basch's meals and this is actually the reason for the king's 'illness'.

After a few heartbreaking Basch/Ashe moments, Balthier returns, exposes the villain (but not before he has had many trammels along the way), the villain is arrested, and Ivalice is saved once more. Basch is given the antidote and Balthier is offered the newly opened post of Counsellor, which he refuses, stating that this is not for him. Basch then offers him the job Ambassador that the pirate also, for the moment, declines - as he prefers to fly the skies with his airship and to make up for the lost time.

Peppe confesses her love to him but the sky pirate rejects her, saying that he is much too older and unreliable and undeserving for her. He even tries to persuade her that she would not be happy as a sky pirate as she says she has dreamed to be. The last chapter would have ended with Balthier, flying alone and free into the sunset.

But an epilogue would have shown that during one of his adventures, Balthier soon fell in love with an Archadian woman and for the first time he decided to 'settle down' for her (only figuratively speaking, of course). He accepted Basch's reinstated offer to become an Ambassador in the Empire, so that he could provide for his family. His wife, children and he frequently travel with the Strahl while Balthier is on a duty to the King or the Emperor and has to travel all over Ivalice. He also begins writing his memoirs, which depict him as the leading man- naturally, but since he has been a part of so many important to all Ivalice, historical events, his memoirs become more of a history book and is actually studied by the students throughout all of Landis, Dalmasca, Archades, Bhujerba and even in some parts of Rozarria.

Which is to say, he became filthy rich too.

* * *

_**Dialogues for Chrysopoeia:**_

* * *

_(on the night of their wedding)_** Basch**: Till death do us apart, remember?

**Ashe** _(with a small smile): _Basch... I fear that when it comes to you, even eternal oblivion will not stop me from loving you.

* * *

**Balthier**: I might as well start writing my memoirs, like that Marquis of Bhujerba. I bet they'd become quite the hit, wouldn't you agree, Lady Ashe? _(Ashe, ever the sky pirate fan nods eagerly)_

* * *

**Ashe** _(while giving a speech to her army, on her way to the northern lands): _May the Gods be my charges, because I will never bow down...!

* * *

_**Dialogues for Aircrafted:**_

* * *

**Balthier** _( to a local harlot): _My dear, words cannot describe how I feel for you, because I don't feel anything for you. Now go on, go somewhere less serious from here. We have important things going on here.

* * *

**Captain Ismail**: I haven't been raised by mermaids. I haven't even fought the Occuria and the king of Tritons as they say. I was only a shepherd's son. But of course, a sea sailor is the stuff of legends, who would have ever even considered such a normal thing?

* * *

**Peppe**: Have you ever wanted something unbelievably much, but found that you were not really ready for it?

_She's still a child_, Balthier thinks then.

**Balthier**: I have.

**Peppe**: And what happened?

**Balthier**: I was too cowardly to ask for it .

**Peppe**: What was it?

**Balthier**: Oh, it's not something much honorable, alright?

* * *

_**Original Characters:**_

Chrysopoeia

**Captain Jem Ondore** - _Halim's estranged son. Strong and unforgiving and masculine. While in the Northern Lands as a member of Basch's Army, he learns of his father's death. Jem says he still cannot forgive him for the things he __**hasn't**__ done although the captain promises he will try every day, but that he will pray to the gods for his father's soul and peace._

**Armenia Piligrim** - _a healer and a widow, Ashe's friend during her stay in the Northern Lands. Strong-willed, brave, tough and spiritual._

**Carypso** -_ Armenia's five years old daughter._

**Tiberius della Volterra** - _Basch's best General. Green eyes and brown hair. With a melancholy look. _

**Ascanio Bartolommeo** -_ Vice Chancellor, ambassador of Dalmasca in Landis. In red velvet robes. Dark hair and big dark eyes with long lashes. Loyal to a fault and a gentle and loving husband to Marion. A good advisor and an intensely smart and wise man._

Aircrafted

**Balthazar and Peppe Corradino** - _Balthier's companions during the story. Balthazar later finds a job in Rozarria, his sister accompanies him there, marries a loveable, hot-tempered Rozarrian prince which shapes her to become more level-headed and respectable._

**Ismail, the pirate** - _a sea pirate the party meets._

* * *

_**Final Author's Note**__: So this is the end. I wish I could have written the other two parts but when the muse for writing is gone, it's gone. Writing this piece though was a very healing experience for me - I began this story on the first Christmas after a close family member passed away. I grew attached to the characters as every other author, be it a fanfic writer or an original novel one , grows attached to the characters he is breathing life into- to Ashe's fighting spirit, Basch's and Noah's internal struggles and to Balthier's sassiness. I even imagined what their zodiac signs would be (respectively Aries, Aquarius' and Libra). :D_

_But it is time to put a __**'The End'**__ to this story and to stop for a moment and think about the wonderful feelings I had when I was expressing myself through words, or when I read all the wonderful reviews, or when I reread and edited this fanfic now, a full year later, and to appreciate the muse that inspired me to write it in the first place._

_This story always was, and always will be dedicated to __**you, **__beloved reader__**. **Thank you for reading!_


End file.
